


'Ma'Las

by AfroditeOhki



Series: 'Ma'las [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Big clump of spoilers, Canon-Typical Violence, Cole helps, Copious amounts of sap, F/M, Fix-it Lavellan, Fluff and Angst, Game Spoilers, Includes ART!, Mention/memories of abusive cultures, Minor canon divergence, Of course there's angst it's solavellan, Post-Trespasser, Sappy eventually happy, Trespasser Spoilers, also elfy stuff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-14
Updated: 2016-04-24
Packaged: 2018-05-06 19:09:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 28
Words: 28,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5427374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AfroditeOhki/pseuds/AfroditeOhki
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The anchor's killing her and she's given too much. Time to take the matter into her hands again - and fix what has been wronged, because that's what she has been doing since all this madness began five years ago.</p>
<p>In the end, as it has always been since his awakening, she was his hope.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So this is my first fic! Yaaay! I'm actually a visual artist, and this is a project in general for me - I want to learn to write decently and conduct a story, and I want to practice drawing expressions and scenes with the same characters. So my plan is to make art-for-every-chapter. I'm not making any promises but I'll try my best.
> 
> This is post-Trespasser, but deviates from it in one fundamental thing: she doesn't let Solas take her anchor arm off. Apart from that, I'm trying to keep things very much canon for as long as it went in-game, and to add my own story after that.
> 
> Also credit to Fenxshiral for all the elvhen that is not directly from game here (go check Project Elvhen!).
> 
> If you ever want to ask me something and I happen to not see it here, you can reach me via Tumblr: http://afroditeohki.tumblr.com/

“What are you _doing_?” Samahla frowned, breathless from the kiss she had spent two years yearning for, and pushed his chest away, snapping her left arm away from his grasp.

The arm he had been pressing and had started to _pull_.

“I…” Solas had pain in his eyes, the look of a man who feels he must do something horrible to avoid an even worse end. She suspected it was definitely not the first time that look graced his face. “I must remove it. The anchor, your arm.”

“ _What_?” he winced at her shriek. When it came to demonstrating emotions, she was quite his opposite, hardly ever hiding anything. “You want to rip my arm off? Are you out of your freaking mind?”

“It is _killing_ you, vhen-”

“Don't you _vhenan_ me now, Solas, I swear I will punt y-” her anger was interrupted by another flash of pain from her hand, and she scowled when her pride wasn't enough to hold back the loud sound it brought from her throat.

It was killing her. Spreading through her, a power that had invaded her body and that seemed to have remained harmless only by luck until now. Until she had to prance around locations that must have resonated to the power, been familiar to it. Been its home. Her body wasn't home to it. It would rip her very core in the attempt to leave, it seemed.

But the source of such energy seemed to no longer be home to it anymore, either; otherwise her former lover would have been able to take it without taking a chunk of herself along.

“No. Absolutely not. I need both arms, mind you. I'll find another way.”

“It has been two years, vhen - Lavellan. You have not found a way.”

“It didn't feel like it was killing me before. It was dormant, it…”

“It had not awakened in power like it has now. It-” his attempts at understanding the anchor of his own power were interrupted by another scream from her pain, followed by the grief that was now plain on his face. “Samahla, please. I would not allow my own mistakes to kill you.” And then a whisper, a plea, “ _please_.”

He knew the stubbornness in her features before she even tried to reply. She wouldn't step back. He swallowed, looking down, thinking. She would die believing she could solve this some other way, some nonexistent way.

“Allow me to… at least soothe it temporarily. Like I did when you arrived. I may be able to make it harmless for a time.”

“Do it.” She didn't even hesitate, and he was struck, again, by her trust in him. As if he wasn't ultimately the source of all her problems for the past nearly five years, almost causing her death then and again now.

He breathed deeply, and she observed as the eyes she used to love - still loved, damn her idiot heart - looked again like lightning, his call upon the green energy in her forcing it to sleep again, to feel harmless again.

 _For a time_ , she reminded herself.

With the weight of a world on his shoulders, Solas turned to leave. He hesitated, stopped.

“I will never forget you.” His voice was heavy, pained, and again she couldn't fathom why he wouldn't simply let her walk this path with him.

 _You won’t forget me, even if I have to keep reminding you of me_ , she decided in the privacy of her mind.

** **

\---------------------

_She was so forgetful._

_It felt odd to him, how she was always so eager to learn, so quick to learn, and yet would forget the simplest things. The everyday things, her appointments, a new recruit’s name or origin, where she left something - once she forgot if she even had eaten lunch that day. It was so common, so expected, that she would forget everything, that it was always a surprise to see the things she did remember._

_Small gestures. The glint in a friend’s eyes. Entire conversations taken idly in journeys, not even concerning her, but she would always be listening. Once he bantered with Blackwall about the past of Val Royeaux’ markets, and why he preferred them now, and Samahla appeared days later with a box full of tiny frilly cakes for him simply because he mentioned enjoying them._

_She had a way of using the memory of those chats to trap him in a corner, too._

_“I must save the elven people, even if it means_ this _world must die.”_

_“Once you told Cassandra that your belief is in the inherent right of all free willed people to exist.”_

_He had eyed her, speechless for a moment. So he truly had said._

_“Do you believe I am not free willed? Or all the people you have met since we formed the Inquisition? Do they, do we deserve to die with_ this _world, Solas?”_

_Even now, remembering the conversation played before he had to walk away from her again, leaving her still plagued by his mark consuming her from inside, he still didn’t know what to make of her questioning. He had said he hoped she would change his heart, and was beginning to suspect she could be able to. Even when he was so sure of the path he had to walk. She was already starting to untie the little knots, defy his reasoning, show him his mistakes._

She will haunt my dreams, and every decision I make, and every step I take, I will think of her _. It wasn’t a stretch to admit it. One conversation after two years of absence and she was already creeping at the corners of his resolve and certainty._

I will never forget you _, his mind repeated alone, while the depths of his heart hoped he would not have the opportunity to try for long._


	2. Chapter 2

It felt eerie and it creeped her out.

So empty. Huge, endless halls of stone and nothingness now. And the ghosts of memories of all those who left.

When they first arrived, Skyhold felt like a promise, a dream, the safety of a new home protected by those who shared a goal. Now it felt like loneliness.

Still she refused to leave. Where would she go now? She could go to Wycome, where her former keeper now ran a city together with a city elf and shems. But to say what? _Oh, my face is now bare because our holiest marks are actually slave chains. By the way, I fell in love with the Dread Wolf and now I'm the one intending to follow his scent. Also, I'm stuck with part of his power and it's killing me. So, how's everyone been doing?_

She chuckled bitterly at herself and sighed. She was the one who disbanded the Inquisition, decided that, friend of hers or no, she didn't want to actually answer to the Divine and her Chantry, left the _reunion_ angrily saying she had better things to do than be caught in the bickering of nobles - things like _saving the world again_. Besides, she had not only been warned about but seen the corruption faced by an organization that no longer had a pressing goal.

Still, she already missed everyone and the place felt morbidly lonely. At least she had a decent amount of books that Dorian and the others didn't want to take home with them. Mostly… Solas’ books, left behind when he simply left after the orb shattered.

She passed by the rotunda, staring at the mural that would complete the round wall, had it not been left unfinished. The lines started becoming blurry, and she noticed it was because she had tears pooling at her eyes. Sighing deeply, she forced herself to press on to the stairs, to check what reading material was left for her.

_Plenty information on the Fade. Where are the books My Trainer gave me?_

She stared at the anchor. It was dormant, tingling slightly, but still shone a sickly green that ran all the way almost to her shoulder. _Fen'Harel’s power_ , she remembered. _The power of the one who created the Veil. If any kind of magic knowledge will help me control this, it will be on Rift Magic and direct Fade manipulation_.

So she set to reading, plopping herself on Dorian’s armchair and shouting a curse when she tried to put her feet onto the table and banged one of them loudly against the wood instead.

 

\---------------------

 

_She was so clumsy._

_He was walking down the stairs from the main hall to the courtyard when he noticed the Inquisitor and her dear friend - Sera, of all people - sneaking around and giggling, surely on their way to pull a prank on someone._

_Seeing her like this always brought smiles to his face. It made him feel young again, reminded him of a time when his nickname of ‘trickster’ didn't carry a meaning of ‘traitor’, when he walked freely on the halls of both sides drawing giggles and chuckles from pretty women and men who would be charmed by his pranks and his charisma alike._

_Sera aggravated him to no end, but mostly because of the one thing she was very much different from the Inquisitor: where the city elf woman would be deeply annoyed by everything remotely ‘elfy', the dalish one would marvel at anything she could discover of the past of the People, would ask him to teach her words in elvhen, would ask of what he'd seen in his journeys through the Fade. Still, seeing them both go out of their way to lighten the mood in the fortress while helping all people in positions that were less recognized feel like equals to their leaders stirred something in him, the memory of himself starting to notice how unfair and cruel it was that a few of the People would decide they were superior to the others, and his decision to try and change things._

_Perhaps this dalish, this one called Samahla Lavellan, praised as the Herald of a human divinity, was a kindred soul to him, only born in a different time, when pranks were done using water buckets instead of great magic feats._

_And then he watched as she tripped, pouring said water bucket all over herself, and his chuckle from far away was drowned under Sera’s loud cackle and her cries of hoping all the stable helpers had seen_ that _and what a waste it would be if they hadn't because what else would make one feel an equal more than seeing the Herald_ trip on her own foot _?_

_So clumsy, and yet so graceful for many other things._

_He had watched her dance - she wasn't trained, and he had surely seen much better dancers, even after his time of legends, but it was like music swept through her, making her body flow free like whispers on wind, and he couldn't help but feel captivated. Impressively, at times like that she wouldn't trip or bang a limb against a piece of furniture; it seemed her clumsiness would flee whenever she paid attention to her movements._

_More impressive was seeing her work her magic._

_It lacked brute power, but made up for it in finesse. She would sculpt the mana with nimble fingers, weaving her spells with meticulous care. She would rain lightning on the battlefield without striking her allies, she would heal ripped internal organs, and when she decided to learn to be a Rift Mage to pry her path between the Fade and the material world, he knew she would be formidable._

_In hindsight, he wondered how far that could take her in understanding why he now seemed to share with her and with nothing the control over the shard of his power that attached itself to her when she touched his foci._

More than I was able to _, he hoped as he laid down to sleep._


	3. Chapter 3

He watched her from afar.

She could feel his presence, tugging at the corners of her dream, and looked around searching until her eyes set on the six-eyed wolf.

“Solas.”

But he turned and walked away, head down and steps silent as the night in the empty fortress.

It had been like this for many nights now. He would come and look at her, then leave, as if just checking. _Just making sure she still lived._

During the days she'd continue her search for answers on what to do with the anchor, occasionally stopping to go outside and hunt some game to eat alone. It had been a couple of weeks of this, and all the furniture had collected a layer of dust that she ignored, adding to her impression of being adrift in time when there was only one thing she allowed in her mind: to keep this power, _Fen’harel’s power_ , from killing her.

Of course, said wolf would creep into her mind constantly uninvited, and she had to force him out.

“He watches from afar, worried, hurting, clawing at his heart, and he's afraid, he can't do anything, he's failed, he's failed again and he can't forgive himself-”

She gasped, scared and surprised - it had been long since she last heard someone's voice.

“I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you.” His sweet darling voice tumbled into the air, and she smiled and hugged the spirit boy. Dear Cole. Every time she saw him, she could understand more how painful it must have been to lose Wisdom. Spirit friends seemed to have a clarity and honesty she wouldn't find in anyone living.

“It's ok, Cole. You just surprised me. I thought you had gone back to the Fade.”

“I said I would return wherever the pain was too great, whenever I could help”, he looked at Samahla with those huge eyes. “And there is a lot of pain in you. Inside, outside, and it hurts and you're afraid, you don't want to let it take even more of you but you'll _die_ if you don't let another part of you be taken.”

She sighed and continued to think of what she could do. Maybe hearing her own thoughts in other words, in another voice could help. As she imagined, Cole began voicing her concentration.

“It attached to me, longing, powering, I can control it but I can't, _he_ can control it but he can't. It's foreign, an outsider, giving me power and being its own power but it's an intruder. It sparked to life when it felt home, but I'm not its home and it wants _out_ …”

 _I'm not its home._ The words rolled over in her mind.

_I'm not its home and it's killing me. I could be its home, I could make it mine, part of me like another arm or my heart._

Her eyes widened at that revelation, and she laughed aloud, pulling Cole from his reverie with a sudden hug and giggling like a child.

 

\---------------------

 

_She reminded him of a child when he first met her._

_She was of age, he thought, the markings on her face no longer fresh, the look in her eyes no longer quite innocent. But she looked so young, bright smiles, quick giggles, a body of soft curves and softer features on her face. She'd play games and pull pranks and come laughing, laughing as her name, as if there was no promise of a torn world looming over their heads._

_That is, except when she'd stare at the Breach, remembering the weight that had been placed over her shoulders. The weight of a world that could be destroyed._

_He watched as she matured. Her body, though already at the age of 20 when it all began, would steadily grow and curve with time, as she was forced to run and sweat and strain her muscles with all she had to do now. Her mind, however, matured in jumps._

_Redcliffe. Being hanged from her foot by one hand of a false god that had her at his mercy. The fall of Haven. Adamant. Mythal’s temple. The battle and victory over a creature that threatened the world._

_Seeing again her beloved and discovering after years of unexplained absence that he was the traitor entity of her people. And listening calmly to what he had to say._

_Each time he'd watch as she matured, and each time he'd be amazed that she was able to hold on to her optimism._

_More amazing was to realize that she had traded “It's gonna be alright!” to “_ I _will make it alright”._

‘Ma'las _. My hope. For the first time he realized he had been placing his faith on her, that she could be the only one to find a way to make things right while avoiding his talent for causing tragedy._

  
_He had been placing his faith on her all along._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "laughing as her name": According to the wiki, "Samahl" means "laughter".


	4. Chapter 4

She sat down on Dorian’s armchair again.

No, this would not do. She had no idea how this would affect her - she might need space to squirm around, softness to avoid hurting herself if she started to spasm.

A surface where she could pass out, if it came to that.

Her bed, then. She hadn't used it since leaving to meet the Divine, since before walking into the maze of eluvians searching for a bunch of qunari and finding a wolf.

Coming down the stairs from the library, she paused to look at the paintings with longing, only to shake her head at her own stupidity. _He caused this_ , she reminded herself. _He misled me, fooled me, put all of us in danger time and again_. Yet still now she couldn't blame him, couldn't be mad at him.

 _He showed me a world I could never dream of, he showed me love that goes beyond desire_.

And now her heart hurt again. Samahla shook her head fiercely, then had an idea. Lyrium. She might need lyrium for this - a dangerous magical experiment with her own life? Definitely lyrium. She took a side door and crossed the bridge to what used to be the commander's quarters.

Sifting through what was left of his possessions, she grinned as she found a box of vials. She could make use of these, and smiled fondly knowing that the fact they were left behind meant that Cullen _didn't_ need them anymore. It felt good to know her dear friends had turned out so well after all the events.

She sorely missed them all though.

The walk to her own quarters felt extra lonely after those musings. She thought she felt the presence of Cole, however, and that felt a bit reassuring.

Samahla opened the wide windows to let light come inside and flood the room - no candles or fire now, for safety reasons. Walking to her bed, she sneezed as placing the box of lyrium down on it brought a storm of dust into the air. She sat and forced herself to relax.

_Breathe. Feel your own body. Feel your energy, your mana. Now feel the anchor._

It tingled softly, dormant, though still seeming to battle the walls of her veins.

_Ancient. Surging. Cornered at the end of a limb when it first came, then a rebel against its cage when it felt energies it knew._

She laid down, closed her eyes, willed her mind to forget all of her surroundings. Now she would only feel what was inside. The energy of the anchor crept slowly up the veins of her arm, by now all but reaching her shoulder, and she used her knowledge of controlling rifts and the Fade to move it.

_My blood. My power. Battling the anchor for space, when it should be welcoming it._

She lost sense of time as the sun went up and back down, feeling every component of her body and soul and how it moved.

_I'm not your enemy. I've been your home for five years. You are mine and I am yours, and I will bring back what was lost, I will build and I will be the home of our People in a world grown anew._

She felt her heart beating, and the anchor surging. She willed it into her, to her very core, felt it creep into her chest and her heart pounded harder and harder and it crept up her neck and the beat was faster and faster and it reached her _mind_ \--

Her body spasmed, sending vials of lyrium smashing onto the floor. Her vision was taken by a bright yellow, and then all was darkness.

 

\---------------------

 

_She was so curious._

_“Why do you wear a wolf bone, lethallin?” and he had to make up a story about how it became a charm of fortune to him._

_“Have you ever loved before?” not as wholly as I love you, he didn't dare answer._

_He had watched, proud and hopeful, as she let the stories of her clan melt as mere tales as she discovered ancient texts and artifacts in ruins in their travels, as she met immortal sentinels, as she compared what she had been taught to what she had seen and felt._

_It almost felt like it was no surprise when she learned of who he was._

_It was fitting, truly, that she had carried Dirthamen’s markings before she so readily accepted what they originally meant and asked her lover to rid her of them._

The protector of secrets. The guardian of knowledge.

_“Why Dirthamen?” She had chuckled merrily at the question._

_“I grew up as a brat. All pranks and curiosity, being reprimanded for not taking my lessons seriously_ and _for running out to see what was that new thing I'd never seen outside camp.”_

_“Ah. I suppose they wouldn't allow you to favor your trickster side when it came to honoring your gods.” Remembering it now, Solas scolded himself for having allowed his sourness at that conclusion to be shown. Yet she had seemed to pretend not to notice._

_“Yes. Secrets and knowledge it was, then. I just hoped wisdom would follow. Too much knowledge can be dangerous, unless one has no care to put it to use. And that's not something I'd allow myself, to know and not to act.”_

_He couldn't help but wonder if she ever took notice of just how much wisdom she managed to possess by the time she was highly regarded as the Inquisitor. How much wisdom was required to take the decisions she made, to analyse so many possibilities before picking a course of action._

_Had she been with him since ancient times, Arlathan might have still been standing now, with no slaves and full of wonders._

_He would not be the wolf who hunts alone._

These thoughts will take me nowhere, enough distractions _. The Dread Wolf pretended his cheeks hadn't just become wet with tears, and forced his attention back to his task._

 _That didn't take long, as he was surprised by a very scared Cole begging, “_ You _have_ to help her!”

  
_For a moment, it felt like his heart stopped._


	5. Chapter 5

He searched for her in the Fade.

Cole said she was unconscious, and Solas was much too scared for her well being not to check on her first. A trip would take much too long, as he was relatively far from any eluvians to reach the one left in Skyhold by Morrigan.

He found her in a glen by a waterfall. She came here often in dreams.

She looked… shining, entirely bright, somehow more _real_. Her left arm no longer shone green by itself.

_What is the meaning of this?_

She noticed him. He didn't know what to say to her, and he was intruding again. She seemed well, at least her mind, and that would give him time to reach her. He shouldn't be here. He turned to leave, as he always did when checking on her.

This time, she frowned, eyes glinting with purpose, and stood up.

“Solas.” Her voice was strong, certain.

He walked away. She followed.

He strode. She ran towards him.

He started to gallop. It seemed tonight the wolf was the prey. He couldn't face her, nothing he could say would make things right.

She ran to him, elven legs seeming impossibly fast enough to race a wolf.

He pushed past the boundaries of her dream, to flee to his own. She yelled in denial.

Her form started to change in the Fade, her limbs becoming feline, arms reaching the ground to run wild. He gasped in surprise when he felt her ripping into his own dream.

In his hesitation, she reached him, jumping onto him and rolling him over the ground to pin him in place.

_Impossible._

“Stop running from me, running from what you caused!”

“Samah... “ He gaped, utterly confused. “... _How_?”

She ignored his questioning. “ _Talk_ to me! Enough hiding, enough denying, you refuse to _listen_ just as you refuse to _speak_! I'm living _alone_ in Skyhold, in the castle _you_ gave me, in _your_ castle where you painted walls in _my_ honor and I now have the wolf _crying for seeing me_ and you expect me to believe you don't want--”

“Samahla, _how did you do this?_ This is my dream and you've never _\- look at yourself_!”

Confused, she looked at her hand and saw a paw.

A very, very fluffy furry feline paw, like those of snow lynxes that roamed the mountains.

Well, at least she looked as confused as he did. Shaking her head, she sighed.

“... Come see me, Solas. We need to talk. Enough of this pretending one will just leave the other be. Now I know who you are, I know what you plan to do, and I'm still here. Why are you still running away from me?”

He hesitated. Still, he conceded.

“I… I can reach an eluvian by noon tomorrow. Is the one at Skyhold still intact and there?”

She nodded once, and faded away from his dream.

 

 

\---------------------

 

_He was so passionate._

_He tried to pretend he wasn't, and she could see where he failed. He'd fake the stoic scholar, but his eyes would shine and his voice would sing every time he spoke of old memories he saw in the Fade._

Old memories he saw in person _, she corrected herself. Memories he had from when the world was so beautiful it hurt, when things were so bright he couldn't begin to imagine his well-intended actions could go so very wrong._

To cast away what he loved most, only to give a chance to those who were oppressed _, she remembered fondly. Of course, it was an extreme, irresponsible, poorly planned measure, but she couldn't blame him. Not when it was powered by such empathy and worry for others._

_And then he couldn't forgive himself, and carried all the blame, and with such passion he decided to fix it all._

_Just to plan something even more extreme and dangerous, in the end. He had a sea of options ahead of him, but refused to see any but the one he found just as he woke from Uthenera believing nothing was_ real _anymore._

A blind passion. I could be his seeing eyes.

_Her mind went back to the glimpses she got of his passion along the way._

_A shy kiss in the Fade, answered by his incredulousness and then by his own hungry, searing kisses._

_Then he forced himself to keep his distance, only to dive back into her arms and lips at her barest request of “Don't go”. “It would be kinder in the long run”, his attempt at being purely rational said, “but losing you would…” his true self couldn't even complete the thought of loss._

_She remembered the sheer pain he showed upon seeing his friend Wisdom being torn into corruption. She wondered how many years had passed since he became her friend. Just imagining the sorrow from losing the spirit pained her._

_She remembered how torn he looked when he decided to end things with her. Had he meant to tell her, and been unable to? Every time she wanted his touch, he acted like he couldn't._

Like he believed he didn't deserve to be loved _, she concluded. For having caused chaos and death when trying to create equality and peace. An enormous mistake, but with a beautiful intention nonetheless._

Next time I'll be there to find a better way _, she decided, and her flurry of lynx fur entered the river by the waterfall to wait until her physical body managed to recover enough to wake up._


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edit: to add this chapter's art.  
> As always, I hope you'll enjoy it all, and thank you for sticking by <3

“She's waking up!” She barely registered Cole’s voice, which sounded an odd mix of distant and clear. There was a leftover of a taste of honey and herbs on her lips, something nutritious and foul as far as tastes go. 

“Thank you, Cole.” came the even more distant voice of Solas, along with a rattle of what sounded like a plate with pots being carried and placed on a table. 

She tried to open her eyes. Her mind was foggy and strange, yet alive with something she couldn't quite define. She winced at the light. It was probably early afternoon, and the sun came pouring into her room like the sun of tropical forests instead of the sun of these icy lands. 

 _Why is it so bright_ , she thought oddly trying to cover her eyes. Someone sat on the bed by her - Solas, she realized. 

“Samahla”, the voice of her beloved was soft and had a tinge of relief and another of worry. “How do you feel?”

She considered, her eyes slowly adjusting to the ache of being open, and she registered only his silhouette against the light coming in. “... _Sharp_. If that makes any sense.” She eyed her hands, pleased to see very elven fingers there.

And no green light. 

Solas noticed the target of her attention. “The anchor is gone... _What did you do_?” 

She attempted to sit up slowly. “I _found another way_ , of course. Like I said I would.” Samahla rubbed her left hand, feeling only a plain scar on her palm and a light tingle over the skin of her entire body. Her vision was slowly returning to normal. 

He hesitantly took her hand. His other hand hovered on her arm, as if feeling the air that touched her, and his lips parted in wonder. 

“You… you _absorbed_ it. I… Samahla, this shouldn't have been possible…”

“Yet I did it. For having lived in the times of wonder, you are quick to dismiss possibilities, Solas.”

“Has it… affected you -” “in any way?” She completed, remembering the last time, so long ago, that he asked that question. “I don't know the whole of it, but I've never been able to turn into an animal in dreams before.”

“And enter another person's dream without being taken there by a Dreamer. I'd wager you've become a Dreamer yourself.” He frowned, as if working a puzzle in his mind.

“That's…” _amazing_ , she thought. _Something I envied in the few who are born so. So damn exciting_. She wouldn't say it though, out of spite right now. “Well, it seems it's not killing me anymore, at least.”

“No, indeed.” He mused, interrupted by Cole’s voice. “She’s bright, beautiful beyond belief, she was already the one who felt _real_ and now she feels more real than reality itself.”

Solas blushed and looked away, trying to hide the color that was reaching his ears. She finally tore her eyes from her hands to look at him, her vision now perfectly fine, somehow maybe better than it used to be. What she saw, though, threw her train of thought out the window. 

“... Solas, _why do you have hair_?”

He was so obviously befuddled with the question that she couldn't hold back a chuckle.

“Well, I _do_ have hair, I simply no longer need to look inconspicuous.”

“Wait, so _unwashed apostate hobo_ was an intentional look?” She laughed in delight, and he wasn't sure if he should feel immensely annoyed by the question or completely relieved that the conversation didn't dwell on what Cole had said. 

He sighed, deciding instead to just watch her. His eyes roamed, as if analyzing the changes in her. Whatever they were, it was nothing in the material sense. He closed his eyes and seemed to feel instead, hand still holding hers. 

She observed his hand. “... I miss you.” Her confession came out softly, merely a whisper, but it caught his full attention nonetheless. _Oh_ , there _is the passion in his eyes, I was wondering where it had gone_.

“I…”

He couldn't say. 

“She’s my heart and hers, my life and my hope, _‘ma'las_. I can't, I have to fix it all and this will bring my death, and I would endanger her, but to go on without her…”

“Thank you, Cole, but--”

“She's the laughter and the love and the long forgotten dreams, she's the world that should have been and I'm late, I'm so late to realize what she means and what it means that she exists in this world that is so torn but somehow created her anyway--”

“Cole _please_ \--”

“And I want to, I need to believe she can make things right again but I can't and it's my fault everything's so broken and--”

“ _COLE_.”

The boy was pulled from his trance, scared at the tone of the man's voice, and whispered “I just wanted to help…”, to which Samahla hugged him from her sitting position and whispered “Thank you, my dear. You helped me.”

 


	7. Chapter 7

“It feels… different. Wider. Sharper. I feel like I can see farther, I feel more of the wind on my skin, the sounds of smaller things.” She watched out her window, arms spread.

“Your perception has probably been enhanced. Anything else you notice? Maybe try to cast?” Solas watched, forcing himself to focus on a _purely academical study_ of the changes in her, trying to forget how much he longed for her, being so close after so long, and seeing her like this.

 _She felt elvhen to him_. She was already his heart, now she reminded him of home.

The good part of home. The light, the magic, the connection.

“Casting, uh? Fine.” She did the first thing she could think of. Veilfire.

Good thing this type of fire didn't burn, as it _spread through the entire room_ in a wide burst.

“Ah, _fenedhis_!” Samahla yelled as she covered her eyes, the sudden light rendering her momentarily blind. Solas, on the other hand, went silent. 

“Well, that was… uh. Something?” she gaped, wondering.

“You… really _absorbed_ it. I wonder now, what was your method? It clearly fused its power to you.”

“I brought it into my veins, made myself home to it.”

“Hm”, he answered nonchalantly, to hide his wonder. Again, she solved things by bringing them closer to her heart.

 _Maybe that was how she could become my own heart_ , he mused.

His mind raced. _Samahla with this kind of power_. How far she could go, how many _miracles_ she could accomplish now. How many broken things she could fix in this world. 

 _Perhaps she would_ … no, he would not allow his hope to go so far. He didn't deserve such happiness,  to walk this path with his heart by his side.

“Well, what does this mean? I feel like I'll have to learn how to cast all over again.”

He chuckled. “I don't think so, I would say you only need to get used to it. It was a jump in power, perhaps also a lessened resistance from the Veil.”

“So I'm also more _interesting_ to demons too, I'm taking it?”

“Perhaps. Though I've never worried about the power of your will.”

“Yes, _indomitable_ focus, or are you saying I'm a stubborn blockhead?”

“Who knows?” he smirked, and delighted at the return of her playful face.

Her chuckle slowly became a sad smile after silence fell.

“... Solas… I... “ she sighed, deeply. “I don't want to lose you again…”

He watched her, a knot forming in his throat. Every time he thought it was too hard to deny her, to leave her side, she kept making it harder.

“Vhenan, I--”

“There. There it is. That's what your heart calls me. Heart, home. Do you deny that you want to be with me?”

“I could never deny it.”

“Then why do you deny letting me be by your side?”

“I told you, I would not put you in danger.”

“That's my decision, to put myself at risk or not. Have I ever allowed fear of danger to keep me from doing what I think is right, or what I want to do?”

He swallowed. She was tugging at the edges of his resolve again.

“I would not have you see what I become.”

“Have you gained some sort of foresight that I'm unaware of?”

“... Excuse me?”

“You were sure Corypheus would die when unlocking your orb and you were wrong. You were sure I needed to lose my arm and you were wrong.”

He frowned. “Well, it does seem to please you to tell me how _wrong_ I am.”

“No. I just think it's about time you learn to accept that _sometimes_ you are. That some things may very well go different than what you predicted.”

She was looking at him with such certainty he felt cornered. “What are you getting at?”

“That perhaps what you _become_ might well be something we can both be proud of. That there might well be ways to reach your goal without all the extreme measures you planned alone when you woke up and got scared at a world so different from what you knew--”

“--I was not _scared_ \--”

“--maybe _disgusted_ at our different kinds of people and our different types of slavery and our different way of pampering a few privileged people and our distance and fear of spirits and magic that you couldn't predict when you split them from our world-”

She stopped talking upon seeing the face he made at that. Eyes cast down, mouth twisted in regret. She put a finger under his chin fondly to make him look at her.

“Solas. I didn't mean to accuse you. I meant it, you couldn't have predicted it. No one can imagine what could happen in a world with changed rules. But I think it meant the world that you _tried_ to fix what was wrong. You were one of the privileged, and you used that privilege to try to free the oppressed. Why do you think that understanding your past made me _love you even more_?”

He watched her, surprised, and cast his arms around her, shaking. She embraced him back, closing her eyes and breathing deeply, welcoming him as if no distance had been built in the years since he left. 

 _I thought she was my weakness_ , he mused, heart beating fast, _but she may well be my salvation_.  

 


	8. Chapter 8

He was smirking at her while she devoured the hare they had caught.

 _Smirking_. _Snorting. The nerve._

She sent a piece of meat flying by accident in her rush to eat, and caught it mid-air to keep from wasting it.

Well, perhaps it really _was_ funny how she was behaving like a starved woman with a meal after weeks of eating scraps. Her hunger was something new.

“How long was I asleep for?”

“That depends on how long it was until I found you in the Fade. I arrived at Tarasyl'an Te'las at high noon, and you woke up only an hour or two after that.”

“There was a… strange taste in my mouth.”

“Ah. A concoction of honey and herbs I prepared for you. I feared your body would suffer from malnutrition if you remained unconscious for too long. We used that to sustain those who entered Uthenera, in the times of Elvhenan. Well, those who had not reached the state of being capable to sustain themselves, that is.”

She eyed him fondly. “... Thank you for taking care of me.”

“It… was the very least I could do. It is my fault it happened at all.” He was trying to hold back his feelings again, she knew. By now she was almost used to that look in him.

“Half your fault. I'm the one who got me unconscious.” She took another bite, nibbling at the sides of bone to avoid wasting. “Might as well have been a favor, seems like I'll be quite powerful now.”

He grinned, amused. “I never took you for one who hungers for power, vhenan.”

She smiled fondly. He still seemed awkward for having called her his heart again, but at least now he let it be. “Power will make it easier for me to change the lives of our People, don't you agree?”

She watched his eyes flicker with a new light. “So you will try to. Do you have any idea how?”

She sighed, setting the bones of her meal to the ground and burying them. “What was your plan?”

He averted her eyes.

Looking up to gray skies, he answered with a low voice, slowly. “Magic was the core of the People, I know that now. I must bring the Veil down again. I created it here, _where the sky is held back_ , and it might be the easiest place to rip it away.”

“ _To rip it away_? Simply like that? _Like Corypheus tried_?”

“Not exactly. He was wrong both in method and intention. There will be damage, but--”

“ _But_? Solas, you were the one to show us all the danger of the rifts, taking innocent spirits and tossing them into the material world by force, corrupting them into demons--”

“It will happen to some, many maybe, however--”

“What happened to asking Cole not to die because he's too precious, too rare as a spirit of positive nature?”

He remained looking away. He feared this conversation would come. The one in which she realized she couldn't agree to what he _had_ to do. She could feel it, now that Cole had given her glimpses of what her beloved felt about this. Loved her but was sure she wouldn't accept him.

Samahla watched Solas closely. She wouldn't lose him, refused to become his enemy because of his stubbornness.

“And what will happen when magic suddenly covers the world again? What will happen when people suddenly see themselves casting when most of the world _fears_ magic? And in Par Vollen, where they keep their mages chained and tortured? And what will the experienced mages who rule Tevinter do when their slaves and servants sprout magic ability at the dinner table?”

“My duty is to the People, not those--” he sighed in annoyance as she wouldn't let him finish a single sentence in her fear.

“ _Your_ People are mostly dead, or locked in parts of the Fade we couldn't reach yet, and they might get just as corrupted as spirits if you tear the Veil down. _Our_ People are scattered around all those places I mentioned, that will most likely be torn by chaos and war if everyone just starts having magic ability out of the blue.” She sighed deeply, rubbing her temples and forcing herself to calm down.

He took the opportunity to try to speak. “I owe it to the People, to make amends for my grave mistake. And it is only fitting that I may die in the process or be killed by those of the People who do manage to return.”

“... Do you remember the sentence I gave to Rainier when we came to know of his crime?”

He looked befuddled again. “Yes, I remember, but I fail to see how this is relevant now.”

“He couldn't undo what he had done. He couldn't bring back the ones he had killed. Nothing good would come from him dying or being forever locked in a cell. He could make amends by living his life devoted to helping others.”

Solas looked at her, brows furrowed. She continued.

“Revenge is for those with immediate despair. Time allowed the dust of your mistake to settle. The ones who remain don't need revenge, vhenan. They need better lives. They need their struggles eased. _You_ can help achieve that.”

_It feels kinda odd that we call each other heart and refuse to acknowledge it truly._

“... How then? How to make amends, to fix their torn lives?”

“Well, for starters, we could build them a place to go. Somewhere where they won't be slaves, or forced to be servants, treated as something less than people.” She was tracing the ground with a stick, to make up for the lack of maps and tokens she usually had when planning strategies before.

He watched in silence. He _did_ say his extreme measures were for lack of better options. He would hear her idea first.

“You already have many followers - yes, I know of _the great exodus of random elves all around_ , some of the Inquisition elves disappeared too even” she chuckled at the coy face he made at that. “We give them a land, if you haven't already, build a safe country, bring even more of our people, and teach them to be cautious but not fearful of magic. We teach them about spirits and how they can be friends, how precious they can be. We… we slowly raise a culture among which we can thin the Veil, let spirits willingly come through, smoothly allow for more mages to be born until the Veil can come open safely. And then, with it open, we could awaken the Elvhen that are still in Uthenera.”

Solas watched with that face she knew, the one he'd wear when he was deep in thought.

“If… if all else fails, then fine, go with your plan. But it's much too dangerous and extreme not to be the very last resort, Solas, ma lath.”

His heart jumped at the endearment, and at the flash of hope. _This could work._

 

_ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Elvhen translations:  
> -Vhenan: heart, home.  
> -Ma lath: my love.
> 
> Edited to include chapter's art.


	9. Chapter 9

She leaned back into the bathtub, heated by her own fire rune, sighing in relief and comfort. Her muscles, sore from the effort of accepting the new power inside her, slowly soothed down, her sweaty skin slowly turned clean, and she allowed her mind to slow down for a bit for a much needed rest, closing her eyes and breathing deeply. 

“You feel different again.” She cried out in surprise, scrambling for something to hide her nudity with until remembering that such things as a sense of _modesty_ made no sense to Cole. And ever since she unknowingly pushed Cole into being more like a spirit - she just couldn't let _Compassion_ murder someone who was begging for his life - she doubted her curious friend would feel any sort of desire at seeing her body like this. 

“Cole, you surprised me again. People need some moments of privacy.” Her voice wasn't scolding, but trying to teach. 

“I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you.”

 _Well, didn't I hear those exact words not long at all ago?_ “I know, dear, I just wasn't expecting you. What did you want to say?”

“You're different again. The other time you shone, shimmering, the Fade sticking to you, you learned to shape it without changing it, and it liked you more for it.” That was when she became a Rift Mage. Cole had said something similar at the time. “Now it shines more, clinging to you, remembering when it was closer, unclosed, uncaged. It dances into your skin, supporting, sustaining you, like it does to him. It tries to ward off the hurts of the world, untired, untouched by time.”

Samahla paid close attention to his words. They would likely help her understand what her new unique condition would mean.

“Does it feel bad?”

“No. The Fade likes you!”

“I'm glad.” She smiled, tucking the words safely into her mind for examining later. “Would you get me that towel beside you please, Cole?”

 

\---------------------

 

She found him staring out into the span of snow outside from a balcony. She was bundled into a ball of furs, frantically trying to dry her hair with a towel. It wasn't the brightest idea to come into open space right after taking a hot bath in the cold of Skyhold, but she found herself unable to keep quiet today. 

_I no longer seem to be in danger. He'll soon go back to his affairs and the people he's gathered. Things need to be discussed before that._

However, her feet stopped her a few paces before reaching him, taking in the view. He was silhouetted against the sunset, a rim of golden light across his form where the last rays of sun touched him. His beauty could almost take her back to ancient times just by looking. 

“ _Ma vhenan’ara_ ”, she couldn't resist gasping. _My heart’s desire_. 

He turned around, surprised at her voice. Something definitely moved inside him at her words, and he reached for her, and then his ever present sense of misplaced duty and self-sabotage stopped his hands mid-air. 

Samahla had no such nonsense to stop her. She closed their distance, pressing herself against his chest, placed her hands at both sides of his head and pulled it to hers into a deep but short kiss, pulling away right after. 

_Awaken the want in him, then let him jump into it._

Like their first kiss, if felt like opening a dam, the waters imprisoned for so long flooding and drowning her in full force.  

 _Ah, but to drown into these waters_ … His mouth took hers with such hunger she forgot that eventually she'd have to breathe. His hands grabbed her as if he was the one drowning carried by strong currents and she a lifesaving branch above that he could hold onto and save himself. 

She moaned into his mouth, ever so slightly, but it was enough to snap him back into reality, making him release her and look away with a pained look in his eyes. 

Solas breathed heavily. Once. Twice. His voice came strangled.

“Samahla… I have to--”

“I’m going with you.”

He stuttered. She didn’t even have to wait for the question to leave his lips. “We have a plan now, don’t we? Well, kind of a plan. We better follow it together. After all, we start creating _an entire country_. Besides…”

She looked down, sighed, then looked into his stormy eyes again.

“... besides… Neither of us _wants_ to be away from the other, and I don’t think you have much reason to keep distancing yourself from me now…”

Her voice was a whisper, wishful. Full of hope. _Be with me. You are my home, and I’m scared_.

He watched her for a moment, face full of so many feelings she couldn’t hope to decypher all, and then she was gathered into his arms.

She had forgotten how starved for touch her beloved seemed to be, since that very first kiss in the Fade. On her shoulder she felt his jaw move, as if he wanted to say something and didn’t know how to, and again, until he gave up and hid his face into her silvery white hair. Her fingers circled small caresses on his back, softly, tenderly, and for a while all they could do was enjoy being in the arms of each other, until she broke the silence with a quietly whispered musing.

“You… the elvhen of old. You were all immortal because the Fade was so connected to our world, yes?”

His curious frown was lost to her eyes, as he still had his face blissfully nestled into her curly locks. “Yes, all evidence seems to point to that.”

“Yet you are alive in this time, and still very much alive after millennia of the Veil. So is Abelas, the other sentinels and who knows whoever else might still be around unfound.”

This made him pull away to look into her eyes. “So we are. What is your point now, vhenan?”

“Could it be your own magic has been sustaining you now that the Fade is locked away?”

He pondered. “Perhaps. Or maybe, more likely, the Fade was tied to our own energies since birth in such a way as to sustain us for eternity.” He watched her, curious about her questioning. “Why do you ask that now, ma lath?”

_The strangeness in calling me his love seems to be fading away._

“Cole, he… told me what he feels of the changes in me since I absorbed the anchor.”

Solas looked very interested at that, but looked as if trying to force himself not to hope for something that started creeping into his mind, and waited for her to continue in silence.

“He says the Fade is interacting differently with me now. ‘ _Like it does to him_ ’ he said, and I bet he was talking about you. If I understood what he meant, it seems that… It seems that the Fade is now warding off the effects of time in me.”

Solas watched her with wide eyes and half-open lips. As if something in his mind had just broken in amazement.

“ _Vhenan_. Do you mean to tell me you’re…” he couldn’t even speak it out loud, for fear it would become a lie.

“... If I'm not already… then I'm quite sure I could find a way to become.” She watched his eyes, seeing the storm of emotions there until he closed them forcefully.

“If… you… _Samahla_.” He whispered her name like a prayer, pleading, _begging_ her to confirm what he hoped she meant. She embraced him again, whispering to his ear.

“Vhenan… _I will not let you die alone_.”

He held her tightly, lovingly, and cried.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm kinda late, but I wish you all a sappy new year. (Yes. I have been dying to say that.)
> 
> Edit to include chapter art.


	10. Chapter 10

“A coin for your thoughts?”

Solas came out of his reverie, looking at the woman in his arms, who was watching him expectantly. It was still hard to believe, and he had trouble deciding between just embracing the events or bracing himself against the impending loss that would probably come. Things didn't usually go _right_ for him. 

And that was exactly why he couldn't believe what  was happening. It was beyond right. His beloved was tucked happily into his arms, after he had managed to calm his storm of emotions and they had moved to sit on a couch. Her plan could possibly work and he couldn't believe it - it wasn't simple or easy, but it might have been even _obvious_ and he hadn't been able to see it, and it might simply be the answer to make things right for the People without needing to make things wrong for everyone else. She would be by his side, they'd do it together and -

_She can live forever._

_I need no longer be the wolf who hunts alone. I can be with my heart, the one I love, the one who loves me_.  

It was too good to be true, and the part of him which felt forever guilty kept repeating, _you do not deserve such happiness._

Yet here she was. In his arms, knowing who he was and what he had done and what he had meant to do hadn't she suggested something else. 

He could almost feel insistent tears trying to return to his eyes, when something at the back of his mind reminded him she had asked a question. 

“I was considering what comes next. What we will do.”

“Well, what were you about to do before you came to me?” She eyed him curiously, bright eyes looking young again.

“I was in a journey deeper into the Arbor Wilds, in search for other places that may have remained as the Temple of Mythal did. Places that could still be home to useful artifacts, or Sentinels I could release.”

“Would I be a hindrance?”

He eyed her fondly.

“Never. Even if… even if we find other elvhen, I suspect they would no longer be suspicious of you, as now you feel very similar to the elvhen of old.”

“I do?” She looked puzzled, and eyed her own skin, moving around as if to search for something different that her eyes could not hope to detect. He chuckled, and she remembered something.

“ _Elvhen such as you_!” She pointed at Solas, wide-eyed at the memory. “Abelas said that to you at the Temple and we… ugh, we all _ignored it_.”

He smirked. “Much to my relief, at the time.”

She feigned anger and smacked his arm. “And _you confirmed it_. Blighted be, _why_ did we ignore it?”

“For the same reason I was able to hide my identity about everything else. Skepticism. One is not ready to jump at the conclusion that they might be walking alongside a being who has seen thousands of years.”

“Or that they might be _trying to get into a god’s pants_.” Solas blushed at that, looking away trying to find something to say to hide his smirk. “I have told you, we were never gods.”

“But I grew up believing you were, that counts as _something_.” She chuckled, then eyed him. “Speaking of which… _why_ did you make such an effort to avoid intimacy with me?” She looked down, losing her grin. “Maybe… maybe you don't…”

“ _I do_ -” he blurted so quickly and cursed himself mentally for looking like a bashful youngling now, redness taking his face up to his ears, and sighed. 

Then he confessed, lowly. “I did not want to advance our relationship in such a manner when I was hiding so much from you.”

Samahla stared at him. He stole a quick look, and saw love in her eyes. His arms pressed around her again, then released her. 

“In any case, it is dark now, so my journey - _our_ journey can continue come morning, we'll take the eluvian and go on from there. I should bathe, better now while we have the advantage of walls, even though the Arbor Wilds are quite warm.”

He stood, while she kept watching him with tender amusement until he could no longer be seen from the couch where she remained. 

 

\---------------------

 

He sighed deeply into the warm water. _Idiot_.

Solas couldn't come to terms with his feelings. It was too much, much more than he could ever deserve, after all he'd done. 

 _But Andruil had Ghilan’nain. Falon’din had Dirthamen. Surely if those who harmed so many_ on purpose _could be allowed to love and be loved, then so can I… right?_

But Samahla can't be compared. How could he ever deserve _her_?

_No one would ever deserve her, but she is not a prize or payment to be deserved or earned. She wants to be with me. For some reason she seems to be happy by my side._

_So I will be sure to give her a world of happiness. So that I can be worthy of her love. So that she'll want to stay with me._

He smiled, washing his recently grown short hair, content with his new decision. 

_Stop holding back for fear of not being worthy. She deserves to be given love, pleasure… even worship._

He grinned, his mind going places it probably shouldn't. What was he thinking? 

But how long had he been dreaming of that? Of her touch, her embrace, her kisses, and what more it could come to? 

_And now it can._

He finished his bath, rising and starting to dry himself. Putting on his pants, he wrapped himself into his towel to avoid some of the cold, and went back to the couch where he had left her. 

She wasn't there. But so weren't any of the furs she was covered in. 

The night was advancing by now. _Ah, bed then_. He walked to the stairs of the master room, the room that had been his so very long ago, the room that had been hers for most of the time since when he met her. 

She was lounging in bed idly, waiting, and smiled brilliantly when she saw him, reaching out her arms in invitation. 

He smiled back, full of love and a thundering heart, and sank into her arms. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited to add art.
> 
> Edit2: Smut scene is posted: http://archiveofourown.org/works/5656297  
> Happens right after the end of this chapter, I made it into another fic so I can keep this one's rating as Teen.  
> If you don't like reading smut or can't, you can safely continue reading this without reading that one. Otherwise, read that before continuing here!


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before you continue: there's an explicit chapter that happens right after the previous one, before this one, here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/5656297  
> If you don't like to or can't read explicit smut, you can safely ignore that and continue reading this, the story still makes perfect sense without it. 
> 
> A warning about this chapter: it mentions /briefly glosses over a memory of implied sexual abuse. It's not detailed at all, does not involve the characters and it's as quick as it comes, but it is there. Please proceed with caution if you're very sensitive about such things. 
> 
> All that said, I hope you enjoy!

Six wolfy eyes watched her. 

 _Ah, dream, ok_. 

“Perhaps we should go over how to change you back into your natural form”, the wolf told her, “as impressive and strangely adorable this feline form of yours may be.”

Her attempt to smack him with her fluffy paw only proved his point further. She eyed him as if waiting for him to continue, or at least to stop smirking. 

 _How can a wolf even smirk_ , she wondered. 

“Focus. Remember your own characteristics and they should come back to you.”

Even though time didn't make much sense or difference in dreams, she felt like it took her less than she thought it would and more than she thought it should to succeed. 

Now her dark elven hands started petting a very large wolf, and he looked like one who hoped he'd be allowed to get used to such a treat. 

 _Well, not like I haven't been in stranger situations_ , she mused, strangely at peace. She watched his animal form, imagining the great feats he must have done in times long forgotten. 

“How was it there? In Arlathan?”

He eyed her for a moment, then stepped back. 

“Allow me to show you.”

She watched him change back from the wolf form, and gaped. 

“Ah, _come on_! That can't be fair!”

He had the looks he probably had at the times of old. Auburn hair, full and in thick straight tresses, reached his waist at one side, tied loosely somewhere at the height of his chest, the other side shaved short much like hers used to be. An exquisite vest in rich fabrics showed a taste of his chest, with a fur piece hung from one of his shoulders. Long, flowing sleeves of shimmering fabric covered his arms, and a ridiculous amount of metal and gemstone trinkets adorned his neck, ears, fingers and forehead. 

Somehow he still managed to look confused at her comment. 

“What cannot be fair, ma vhenan?”

She gestured at him, flailing her hand towards him. “This. You. It surely must be forbidden somewhere to look this… dashing.”

He blushed. And then chuckled - giggled? “Well, _thank you_. I think.” He offered an arm, everything around them starting to change. “Shall we?”

“Are we going to visit your memories of Arlathan? I feel I'm not even close to appropriately dressed for this.”

He smiled. “No one but me will be able to see you. And your own beauty is quite enough, I assure you.”

She blushed furiously. “Stop spoiling me!” She felt like she should hide her face. 

“I apologize”, he brought her hand to his lips and kissed it fondly, “You make me happy and I never thought I'd be able to feel so again. Come, ‘ma'sa'lath. Didn't you want to see it?”

So he walked with her through ancient streets, telling her stories of what was happening, explaining to her what this or that did, what that building was, what that event at the great gathering meant. She watched everything with avid interest, and he watched as her clothes kept changing to match - though inaccurately, with a dash of exoticness - the style of the People she saw. Solas smiled. It was fascinating to watch as she became a Dreamer, mindlessly altering the images in the Fade to match her interests and curiosity. 

“Samahla. Look at yourself.”

She did as told, seeing her own body wrapped in drapes and adornments she had never seen before. “What did you do?”

He chuckled. “I assure you, that was entirely yourself.”

“I… did this?” She marveled. Brows furrowed, impressed, and then a wide grin spread her lips. 

“I… I'm a Dreamer. A _Dreamer_. I can't believe this. I only always… heard stories and envied, wondered why I could not be one as well.”

He smiled fondly. “And then you'd spend entire days asking me to tell about the Fade.”

She looked at her lover, smiled, and held his arm tighter, fondly, then cast her attention back at the images around them. 

His memories. He must have walked these streets alone, once. People in the images would come and bow his head to him, reverent with a bit of fear, and she watched his discomfort, his disappointment at the way things were. 

A lot of the images, though, would greet with the same reverence but a great deal of delightful interest. 

“You never answered if you've loved before.” She watched him curiously. 

“... Nothing nearly close to what I have with you”, he took her hand and kissed it again, “but I did have a fair amount of dalliances. However, the more I knew, the more I would refrain from them altogether, until I reached the point that gave me the fame of being _the wolf who hunts alone_.”

“Why? Why did you pull away?”

He sighed deeply. Taking a turn, he looked around, found two people talking to each other. “There. See that young woman, with the vallaslin?”

“A… slave, right?” It was still so strange to remember that the People used to do _this_ to their own. 

“Yes. Now notice the other woman is no slave. And she wants the one who is. Tell me, what do you see happening?”

Samahla watched, increasingly uncomfortable with what she saw. The slave clearly didn't want the woman, but did not deny her, only tried to hide her look of disgust as the other touched her. 

“She… can't deny her, because of status…” Samahla looked down, angry. How many slaves in Tevinter, how many servants in Orlais must have had to do the same? 

Solas looked similarly disgusted. “Yes. And I was of the highest status. The evanuris and the ones who have been forgotten were the only ones who matched me, and nearly all of them were increasingly hungry for power and dismissive of others, and by then I no longer enjoyed their company. For everyone else, any advance I made would have me wondering if my target would only accept for wanting something from my status or for feeling they could not deny me.”

She watched him, sadness in her features. Then she rest her head on his shoulder, her arms both around the one of his that she was holding. 

She whispered. “I love you truly. I loved you when you were just an apostate and I love you now when you are a powerful man trying to change the world and I would love you still if you lost everything. Ar lath ma.”

He trembled a tiny bit, and kissed the top of her head. “I know, ma vhenan. I would not be here with you if I had doubts about that.”


	12. Chapter 12

“Anything of value you do not wish to carry to our journey, leave in here.”

She looked over his shoulder. “The smaller library? Why here?”

“It took you two weeks of _living in Skyhold_ to find it. It was the place I would come to when I wanted solitude. It is inconspicuous, hidden. We conceal its entrance and no treasure hunters or scavengers will find it. You must remember that now, because of the Inquisition, Skyhold is widely known; and now that the Inquisition is no more, people will start to come looking for what was left behind.”

They set to gathering anything that was worth keeping, taking things to the small room. When it was done, Solas moved his arms and the stones that formed the wall moved one onto the other, seamlessly shutting the door into a big block of wall.

Samahla looked at him wide-eyed, then after a moment sighed.

“I watched you turn people into stone without having to move a finger, why does _this_ impress me?”

“It might take you a while to get used to such displays of magic, perhaps. But I suspect you are able to do this particular one yourself now, with a bit of practice. However, we should go, I have already delayed my travels. Though I could never imagine a better reason to delay than what happened, my people will start looking for me if I linger any longer.”

 _True enough, I suppose_. They gathered traveling resources and walked through the eluvian.

“... Do I ever get used to the sudden temperature change?” She grumbled, frantically casting pieces of thick clothing aside into her bag after taking barely a step out of the eluvian.

He chuckled. “Perhaps not, but you _do_ get to learn to use magic to alter the temperature of your body. I have traced warming runes on your skin before, years ago, haven't I? It is not much different than the runes you create yourself for warming bath water.”

_Ah. So that's how he managed to stay at Skyhold with the same clothes he was wearing here._

Perhaps she just had to get used to the fact that magic would become a huge part of her life now.

They set to walking, Samahla simply following Solas, while she thought of all the abilities she could learn.

_Why didn't I learn how to warm my own body before?_

_Oh right, I was too busy trying to stitch the sky back together and stop the big creep who refused to die_.

She watched the colorful plants of the Arbor Wilds, giddy at the expectation of the world of mysteries unfolding itself ahead of her, just waiting for her to reach out and learn it all.

“A coin for your thoughts?” He quoted her, amused at her expression.

“I was just thinking of all the things I can learn, with the power inside me, with the ancient people we'll deal with, with my potential to have all the time in the world.” She was grinning. He smiled fondly, but then the corner of his lips dropped.

“Immortality doesn't come without its pains. Specially in this quickened world. You… you'll live to see everyone you love perish.”

She stopped walking for a moment and he watched, concerned. _Well damn, I hadn't thought about that_.

 

He watched as her face fell, and something twisted in his heart. _Will this be yet another of my mistakes? Will she come to hate me for it, for the part of me she absorbed and made her immortal?_

Then he watched a small smile return to her lips. “Not everyone. I can't stop time for the others, but do you think I'll let _you_ die? You better be here, wolf, because I'll need a shoulder to cry on when they start leaving this world.”

He smiled, his heart warming - _will that be a usual occurrence now?_ \- and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, coaxing her to get back to walking.

“I will be here for as long as you'll have me.”

 

\---------------------

 

He shouldn't be making such promises.

Didn't he say it himself, that he was walking the path of death? And now he promised her to be by her side _forever_?

_I cannot leave her alone, not after everything she's lost for my mistakes, not after knowing I might be the only one she loves who can stay._

Besides, he didn't _want_ to leave. Yes, there was that small thing.

 _A small thing that doesn't matter_ , he chided himself. _Yet now I may never need to walk the dinan’shiral_.

 _I could follow her steps and walk the path of_ life _instead._

Noon came, and they stopped to eat. Samahla asked him questions about words in elvhen, and what other _creative_ ways she might be able to use magic, and he smiled. _It feels like our first days_ , he mused, _when she knew so little of the world outside her clan yet wanted to know so much of everything._

And from the first day he was happy to oblige.

 

They continued their journey, deeper into the forest full of animals and flowers unfamiliar to her, from lands unexplored in this time, the tingle of untouched residual magic prickling her skin, and she would keep stopping to take a closer look at everything that seemed to catch her attention - which seemed to be pretty much _everything_ \- and the distance that should have taken little more than half a day to cross was stretching into a full day, the sun setting by the time they reached the entrance to another grand ruin, as conserved as the Temple of Mythal they had visited together, only not quite as large.

“What exactly is this one?”

He sighed, preparing for an annoyance of great proportions.

“The Temple of Falon’din.”

 


	13. Chapter 13

Solas brushed his hand against a wall, making streams of green light up among the stone.

Samahla eyed him. “Those over there look like the same kind of ritual we completed at the Temple of Mythal. Aren't we going to complete these?”

He scoffed. “I am not _supplicating_ anything from Falon’din.”

That earned him a smirk from his lover. “Won't that make his followers protecting this place angry?”

He simply shrugged. “I am requesting attention. What they do with it is not much of my concern.”

 _Well, aren't you quite the snob_ , she mused in amusement, watching as the great hall of the temple filled with sentinels - not quite as many as were in the Temple of Mythal. Judging by the fact that that one had been constantly attacked over the years, forcing the sentinels to lose their numbers, and this one was deeper into the supposedly unexplored lands of the Arbor Wilds, she was expecting many more people to be left protecting it.

 

“ _Halt. Who dares trespass the domain of the great Falon’din?_ ”

Solas quickly glanced at Samahla, wondering just how much of the elvhen she managed to pick up; not much, judging by her puzzled face. Bringing his attention back to the sentinel who spoke, amused  recognition dawned on his face.

“ _Enasvevaral. I did not expect to meet you_ here” Solas grinned in wicked amusement, teeth bared at the prospect of mocking.

“ _Who…_ Fen’harel?” The man looked surprised, perhaps a bit _furious_ as his recognition came. Solas continued, unabashed.

“ _The great general of the Lord of the Dead, left to rot in a remote temple so far off Arlathan. I wonder what happened to lead to that?_ ”

“ _Leave, traitor_ ”

Solas discreetly glanced at Samahla to see how she was dealing with the situation, finding her analyzing faces as she couldn't understand words. _Good, clever one_ , he mused in satisfaction, and continued his spat with the former general.

“ _Ah, but I am not quite the one to be first called a traitor, not to the People, am I? I do recall a_ war _waged to force people into your master’s claws. Tell me, weren't you the one commanding the last army to try to reap souls of people? What happened, did Falon’din toss the blame on you in an attempt to avoid much of Mythal’s wrath at the death of_ her _followers? Was that how you got demoted, Enasvevaral?” Solas grinned, watching the man start to bristle. “Or perhaps a change of name is in order for you, as you have clearly lost your grace_?”

 

Samahla had been watching closely. She wasn't sure what they were saying at all, but tones of voice  and expressions were very clear. It had started with duty, the faces of ancient protectors; then one specific face had recognized Solas, and he switched his humor to one of defiance and graceful mockery, and all the others looked increasingly angry as he pressed on. She wondered if that was what it was like for him, in the times of court intrigue he seemed to have enjoyed so much, if his demeanor at Halamshiral were any proof.

Two faces, however, caught her attention. They started the entire scene looking tired, defeated; and as Solas’ teasing grew bold, their faces made a terrible job of attempting to look angered. She could see the interest in their faces, and it made her wonder.

She remembered his tale of the wars Falon’din waged - _maybe these two were very forced to serve._ She made it a point to remember their faces, and when inevitably their leader snapped and attempted to attack Solas, she marked their position.

All sentinels attacked as prompted by their leader, yet they most likely knew it was in vain. This was _Fen’harel_ , and they probably never knew he had spent a time devoid of the core of his powers. Her own was enhanced, but still too wild for her; tentatively, she raised a shield around herself, feeling it stronger than she ever managed to before but with no further unwanted effects. Satisfied, she picked a spell meant to slow but not hurt, something to simply represent she would also be their enemy, and cast it against the two unwilling sentinels.

It was quite as she imagined. They turned their attention to her, ignoring all sense of who the primary target should be, simply doing enough not to be marked as traitors. Pleased that it went as she wanted, she turned around and _ran away_ , with the two sentinels at her tail.

 

Solas had been simply defending himself in amusement after he was attacked. _Oh, these poor souls must have been completely idle ever since Elvhenan fell, their skills are absolutely rusty_. He was wondering what to do now - He hadn't really meant to start this, but Enasvevaral was someone who utterly aggravated him back in the old days and his current position was simply too _hilarious_ to ignore.

He was snapped out of his reverie when Samahla raised a shield. _No_ , he thought in fear, _I was meant to do this alone, now she will be a target!_

However, it didn't take him much to notice she was actively taunting only two of them. Two that had been staying in the back during the conversations, almost trying to pretend they weren't there.

 _She saw something in them_ , he concluded. Perhaps there was something to be gained from separating just these two, and that was confirmed to be her plan when she ran and kept looking back to make sure they followed.

He froze all the others in a block of ice, that would melt by itself in a matter of minutes, and followed as well, shouting for her to keep going until they were well away.

The fact that the two continued to pursue for quite a distance made him sure that they were either very foolish or very much unwilling to be here.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enasvevaral: grace that remains, according to Fenxshiral in the Elvhen Project.


	14. Chapter 14

She stopped running when the temple ruins could barely be seen behind them, and looked back to her pursuers.

The sentinels looked very, very awkward now that they had to actually think of a reason to have come all this way.

“I suppose you were forced to protect the temple… forced to even serve Falon’din at all.” Samahla prompted without thinking. Of course they wouldn't understand, one looking at the other with puzzled faces.

Solas interceded, in the old tongue of the People. “ _You know who I am. Why did you follow? Were you hoping I would free you, rid you of your vallaslin?_ ”

They looked at each other, hesitating. The woman with a square shaped face was the one to answer. “ _Or kill us. Either one would be better than an eternity in suspended consciousness, forced to serve the one who's murdered our families._ ”

Solas sighed, brows furrowing at the living reminder of Falon’din’s genocidal pride, and answered his beloved in the trade tongue. “They were victims of Falon’din's war, yes. They hope I'll either free them or kill them.”

Samahla sighed. _They_ gave their own death as an option, which means that what they have been enduring was worse than death for them. There was sadness in her face, but she replaced it with determination. _We'll make it better for everyone_.

Solas was looking at her expectantly, as if waiting for a confirmation or opinions. His eyes told her he knew her thoughts about this.

“I'd free them in any case, but invite them to join us.” He nodded, satisfied - it seemed they were both in the same direction - and turned back to their pursuers.

“ _I shall free you, unless you believe death is preferred; your death, however, would be a regrettable loss. Very few of the elvhen of our time still remain, and the descendants of the People live lives of pain and struggle. We are attempting to rebuild lands for them, for us all. You would be more than welcome to join._ ”

The two elvhen looked at each other, questioning silently. The male one spoke, voice soft, “ _I am called Sulvun. This is Ithelana. We would see what you are building, and shall help in gratitude for our freedom_.”

 

\---------------------

 

With each step further, Samahla felt increasingly frustrated.

She had so many questions to ask them. So many things to say. Why didn't she ask Solas to teach her more elvhen before?

She sighed, traveling by foot in near silence, making note of the quiet and graceful movements of Sulvun, and the sure and attentive steps of Ithelana.

“That was quite perceptive of you, ’ma’lath.” An ironic compliment, seeing as she had completely failed to notice Solas approaching.

“What was?”

“You realized they were not serving Falon’din willingly, did you not? It might have been the easiest new allies to have been convinced to join me so far.”

“Well, I had to pay attention to _something_ seeing as I couldn't understand what you were saying…”

He smiled. “We can begin your lessons when we stop to rest, if you so wish.”

She blushed, remembering the occasion in which she actually asked him, only yesterday, to teach her the ancient language of the People. He chuckled at her small embarrassed smile, and took her hand.

“The night is starting to advance. Let's find a good place to camp.” He placed a kiss on her palm, and slowed his steps to speak to their new allies.

 

Nighttime found her scouring the woods for game, as they now had four bellies to fill, and the two elvhen had no traveling gear or supplies.

When she returned to the group, they had set up a makeshift camp, a fire already going with water boiling, ready for whatever she would have procured while hunting. They were chatting, much less awkwardly now.

Solas was quite definitely trying not to blush.

“... What were you talking about?” Her voice was laced with amusement to see him like this.

“I… well… they were inquiring about the notion that the Dread Wolf seems to no longer be _hunting alone_.”

 _Oh._ She stared at him for a moment, then sat down to clean the spoils of her hunt. “Was that a widely spread idea even back then, your loneliness? What did you tell them?”

He reached for a knife in his backpack, but Ithelana was already snatching the rabbit that was not in Samahla’s hands, taking a dagger from the side of her leg armor to skin the creature to help prepare their meal, while Sulvun crushed herbs they probably gathered while she was gone. Solas shrugged and resigned himself to just answer then.

“I hope you did not wish to keep it a secret… I figured that, as you said _we_ will build lands for our People, you meant to make it public that we are doing this together. I found it simpler to just tell them.”

“ _Why doesn't she speak our language?_ ” came the voice of Ithelana, her eyes never leaving the meat she was slicing, and the only thing Samahla understood was that it was a question.

 

“ _She is from this time. Much has been lost since the fall of Elvhenan._ ” Solas replied, eyes cast down.

Sulvun stopped preparing his spices, eyes darting to him in surprise.

“ _Even our tongue? What has happened to the People?_ ”

Solas frowned, lips pressing into a line. “ _Servants. Slaves. Fugitives. Some living in tribes, avoiding cities. Humans rule most lands now, though some belong to the Children of the Stone or the kossith._ ”

“ _The what?_ ” Ithelana snapped, trying to get answers to drown her incredulity.

“ _The kossith. Mostly followers of the Qun, a belief that appears to be prone to altering the minds of its members. I have heard theories that the race itself might have been created from human mages making experiments with enslaved elves and dragon blood._ ”

He looked to his side and found Samahla with a priceless expression of baffled puzzlement. Perhaps she managed to pick a few words of the chat and was trying to understand how the topic of the conversation had reached the Qun.

Sulvun huffed. “ _Wait. Back a bit._ Enslaved _to humans? Well, isn't that an advancement._ ” His words came frustrated and dripping in sarcasm, not lost to Solas.

“ _I have failed. I only brought tragedy to our own…_ ” He sighed, hiding his face into his hands, feeling Samahla’s worried touch on his shoulder.

Ithelana scoffed. “ _Well, at least you_ tried something _. I'd expect a big shot like you to just lay back and enjoy living on the sweat and blood of slaves. You changed everything because everything was wrong, right? Or so I'd heard whispered back then. I find it damned hard to believe it got worse, but if it is as you say and it did, who could have predicted it, right?_ ” She tossed bits of meat into the boiling water nonchalantly. “ _So it's_ wronger _now and you try to change it again. One day it'll work._ ”

Solas stared at the woman, as if his brain had just cracked broken, and looked at Samahla, gesturing towards Ithelana, smirking.

“You are going to like this one.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited to include art (which is super late because omg look how detailed that thing is I need to learn to stop biting for more than I can chew!)


	15. Chapter 15

“Oh, she lives! What do you know, I could swear you had been claimed by the Fade for good. Which, you know, you could _very well_ have been!” Samahla flinched at Dorian’s scolding. Even with the distance, in his voice carried by the message crystal he had gifted her with, his hurt masked by sarcasm was painful to hear.

“I'm sorry! So much has happened-”

“-I imagine, with you trying to absorb the godly powers of your ex-boyfriend-”

“-about that --”

“-and requesting for my opinions and expertise, only to completely ignore your _dearest friend_ after the actual deed and leaving me wondering if the thing had _exploded you from inside out_ -”

“-Dorian! I'm sorry! I should have contacted you earlier, but everything happened so fast after that and and... “ she sighed. “I'm sorry.”

She heard him sigh from the trinket in her hands. “Fine. One cannot be angry with you for too long, yes? You have that power over people, even those of us who are utterly perfect otherwise.”

_Oh, he's praising himself. Good, anger’s going away._

“So tell me, little cat, how did it go? Did you manage to do anything at all?”

“I uh… apparently absorbed the entire thing.”

“You did? Excellent, excellent! And how does it feel?”

“Well, it seems my magic is stronger.”

“It's not only no longer killing you, but empowering you as well? Quite the boon that was.”

“Yeah, Solas says that--”

“- _Solas says_? Did you find upgraded apostate hobo again after that?”

“Uh… he kinda found me instead.”

“He went _looking for you_? Hah, I knew he wouldn't resist your charm, dear girl.”

“Uuuhm, not really, Cole went looking for him when I passed out and--”

“I am quite positive you have lost me, kitten. Go back from the start, will you?”

She took a deep breath and began. “I tried to absorb the anchor by making myself home for it and it kinda felt like it entered my heart and my mind and I passed out and Cole got scared and went looking for Solas to ask him to help me and then Solas got scared and went to find me and took care of me until I woke up and then my Veilfire blew through my entire room and--”

“You're making my brain hurt. Slow down and breathe. Put some commas and periods in your explanation, would you?”

She sighed again. “So, we noticed my magic is stronger. Also I may have become a Dreamer for good. I didn't notice any other difference, except that my arm's not shining green anymore. And now we're-”

“ _We_? The man is still with you?”

She stared annoyedly at the artifact when she heard him snort.

“Actually, I'm with _him_. We're… traveling around. Kinda like the old times. Except that this time I'm the youngest of the party _by far_.”

“Samahla, _what did you do_.”

“Look, I'm fine, yes? It's late into the night and we'll wake up early to resume or journey, I'll talk to you some other time. There's something I need to discuss with you. Do you still mean to _try to free the slaves in Tevinter_?”

 

\---------------------

 

“That is an interesting contraption. Was that Dorian?” Solas gestured to the message crystal in her hand as she returned, speaking lowly trying to avoid waking their new companions.

“The one and only. I had told him what I was planning to do with the anchor… He was worried something awful might have happened to me since I didn't contact him back.”

Solas reached out his arm, inviting her over. “I see. How is he?”

She paused at his gesture. It would take her a while to get used to his newfound open warmth.

Still, she took his hand and sat beside him, snuggling into his arm. “He seemed to be fine. Still intent on attempting to one day free the slaves in Tevinter.” She eyed her lover. “I figure we might as well ally with him on the effort, many slaves there are elves.”

He smiled. “It’s worth the attempt, I believe. Are you in good terms with all of our former companions? I feel it was a general consensus of most members of the inner circle of the Inquisition to fight for freedom and against oppression. Many would perhaps accept to aid us in one way or another… that is, of course, if you were not the only one to forgive me and my intent.” He looked at the fire, avoiding her eyes.

She smiled fondly, thinking for a bit. “Sera could help with the alienages. That is, of course, after calling you a mountain of _colorful names_ and threatening to put an arrow between your eyes, and she will complain of _elfy stuff_ all the way through, but she would help, I think.”

He smirked. “She is well then, I take it.”

Samahla went silent for a moment and watched the fire.

“They all are, from what I know. I would love the chance to see them again, to fight with them again.”

He pressed her into his arm, placing a kiss on her forehead. “We'll see where this new path leads us, vhenan. We are lucky to have met such people. We might be graced with their continued support. I wouldn't believe they ever would aid me, if I were alone, but you… You have a way of bringing people to your side.”

She huffed, shy and blushing, and yawned. He moved to stand, taking her hand.

“Now, it's late. If you care to join me, we could meet in the Fade, perhaps to begin with your lessons?”

 

She sure missed sharing a tent with him.


	16. Chapter 16

It was late morning when they reached the eluvian.

Samahla stepped into the mirror without much further thought, watching as the others came through. The two former sentinels made odd faces as soon as they found themselves into the Crossroads.

“ _This is… different. It looks almost dead, yet it still feels welcoming_.” Sulvun mused, examining the landscape with his eyes.

“ _Welcoming to us, yes. The humans who used to be our companions looked extremely uncomfortable in here._ ”

“ _You brought quick children into the Crossroads? Why would you do that?_ ”

“ _They are the majority in power nowadays, and we had several as our allies against an enemy in common._ ”

For her part, Samahla was having a hard time trying to understand even the topic of the conversation, even with her lessons of elvhen having begun. She picked up ‘shemlen', and the name the elvhen had given the Crossroads, and a few smaller words that made no sense alone. She paused, waiting for Solas to go ahead and lead them to the mirror they'd use to reach his lands, and was flooded by a sense of strangeness, of an awkwardness that seemed to have been tucked back into her mind until it could be held no longer.

“Vhenan.” He joined her when he saw her expression. “Is something troubling you?”

She sighed, looking down. “I feel… like I don't belong. For me, it feels amazing that walking these paths has started to feel commonplace to me, yet for the three of you this is part of home to be tended to. I feel like an intruder to something that isn't mine.”

She trembled at the thought. _Your world is not mine_.

 

Solas watched her, worried. There was so much they would have to solve between them.

 _Var lath vir suledin_ , she'd told him. _Our love will endure_. He hadn't believed it then, but he did now.

“This is the legacy of our People. We will rebuild, so that the ones who came after us can be part of it as well. And my home is _you_.” He kissed her forehead, taking her hand and walking to one of the mirrors, sparking it to life with a gesture.

“Together, correct? I have many under my lead now. Would you want me to hide this, to hide _us_ from them?”

She considered. “Not for me, there's no need to hide that I can think of, no.”

“Very well.” He stepped into the eluvian, her hand wrapped in his fingers.

 

\---------------------

 

He was not kidding. There were many under his lead, gathered in the two years since he disappeared from the Inquisition. She watched, from the corner where the eluvian stood, seeing elves from many lands - former orlesian servants, former slaves, a handful of various sentinels, and surprisingly a fair amount of dalish people, rid of their vallaslin but not their style of gear and - _is that Loranil_?

She looked at Solas, impressed. He got dalish people, even if just a few, to actually want to follow the Dread Wolf. And he’d said she was the one who was good at getting people to her side.

He started speaking in elvhen to Sulvun and Ithelana, no doubt explaining to them where they could find their new sleeping arrangements, gesturing to buildings among the impressively intact not-really-ruins of what looked to be a large complex of whatever this place could have been, ages ago when it had been built. She noticed a few statues of the wolf, and a great many paintings she recognized as his own artistry adorning the walls, worn and somewhat faded by time but still very colorful like the ones she'd seen in Vir Dirthara.

As they walked, her three companions taken to their conversation, she noticed the looks of people around them. She could hear whispered comments.

‘Is he holding her hand? Do you think…’

‘Isn't that the Inquisitor?’

‘I hear they used to be together back in the Inquisition…’

‘But the Inquisition was disbanded! Do you think she'll join us now?’

‘But didn't she serve the Chantry?’ That one made her flinch. _I disbanded the Inquisition to avoid having to serve the Chantry_ , she wanted to answer, but decided it to be better to just listen while pretending she couldn't hear them.

All in all, it was actually amusing, the way they'd gossip idly without the veiled venom of the gossip she had heard in Halamshiral. Most of them even seemed happy at the prospect that their leader could have found solace in the arms of a lover.

She was so absent minded in overhearing others that she didn't notice when Sulvun and Ithelana left their side and Solas had led her to a higher ground, raising his voice to request attention.

“My people. This is Samahla Lavellan, which many of you might recognize as the former inquisitor. This is my heart, and I hope you will welcome her among us, and gift her with the same respect you have for me.”

She blushed, this situation not far from but not quite so similar to other moments she'd experienced, like the day she was proclaimed inquisitor, so many eyes on her, cheering for her. This time though it was more personal - she wasn't being named a title, or a position of leadership, she was being named a love, a partner, and her cheeks colored as she eyed the people gathered. Some made gestures of soldiers pledging fealty, others clapped excitedly, some smiled tenderly as if happy for a friend who was in love. Her fingers fidgeted behind her, trying to hide her shyness, and she looked at her beloved.

So different now, and yet so much the same as he'd always been. No longer the silent and humble apostate, trying not to be noticed, he now commanded awe with such ease; yet he had the same dignified posture, the same rhythmic voice, the same customary standing pose with his hands clasped behind his back.

He looked at her, smiled and took her hand again, walking down the steps to reach the great entry hall they had come from, leading her through a wide corridor with many doors.

“This leads to private rooms. We still have some empty, you may choose the one you prefer and claim it for yourself.”

“Solas… _where_ exactly is this place?”

He stopped, and smirked. “Forgive me. We're used to the paths of the eluvians, but of course it is not so for you. We are in one of my former estates, deep into the lands now known as the Tirashan.”

“Tirashan? Orlesian lands?”

He huffed. “Hardly. They claim it, but the Tirashan is not even charted. Much like the Arbor Wilds, the residual magic here and the remaining sentinels in the larger temples make it dangerous for humans to approach; most who tried never returned, until eventually they gave up. It would take a while until Orlais even realizes we are here, and after that they are welcome to try and take these lands from us.” He grinned wickedly, earning a surprised look from her.

 

“Now, heart, you should choose your quarters to leave your things. Here…” He walked ahead with her, to a door at the very end of the corridor. “These are mine. You are welcome to come any time, should you need me or wish to see me.” He smiled, embracing her lovingly, and felt her snuggle into his arms, trusting, at peace. Still now it was too much to believe, it was much too good for someone like him.

Even being probably the greatest authority on the Fade still living, Solas felt like he could wake any time and realize this was all a dream.  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's another smut chapter that happens soon after this chapter, before the next one. It's here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/5851321  
> It's explicit sex, if you can't or don't like to read that kind of stuff you can safely skip it and continue here. <3


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a smut chapter for this, if you like and can read explicit stuff.  
> It's here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/5851321 and happens between the previous chapter and this one.  
> If you read that, skip the first four paragraphs of this chapter (start after the first line of dashes). It's the same text as the beginning of the smut fic.
> 
> Edited to add the art.

She spent the rest of the day walking around the place, learning more of the life here, in Fen’harel’s base for his followers.  
  
His people, he called them. Such a change for someone who wasn't even quite sure this world was real. She smiled fondly, pleased to see the changes in him, her faith in the success of her plans growing.  
  
The entire day she met people, places, exchanged pleasantries and blushed too many times when all the questions came. He had the good wishes of his people, she noticed. They wanted to see him happy, they hoped he'd allow himself to hope. Some told her they'd never seen him smile before today.  
  
She vowed to herself, _I will heal his heart and we will heal the world,_ as evening came and she prepared for her first night here.

 

\---------------------

 

She woke up calmly, slowly opening her eyes to see unfamiliar walls, an unknown bookshelf, a carpet that wasn't hers.

Said carpet held her clothes, however.

She paused, noticing an arm lazily spread across her belly. _Ah_. His breath caressed the back of her neck, peacefully, and she moved carefully and slowly, not wanting to wake him up, turning around to watch his face.

 _The Dread Wolf sleeps like a child with no care in the world_ , she mused, smiling fondly. She wondered if he always looked so peaceful when he slept, or if recent events had untied some knots inside him.

She really liked this room, she thought. It was simple, homely, comfortable. It smelled like him, too.

“On dhea, vhenan...” She heard him whisper sleepily, a beautiful smile gracing his lips as he drowsily guided himself away from sleep, fingers caressing her belly softly.

“Good morning, my heart.” She replied, placing a gentle kiss on his forehead, trying to force herself to stand up.

She had intended on sleeping in the quarters she had picked right beside his. She really had. But there was such a longing for him, after years of nurturing a love that had to endure self-imposed distance, then his disappearance; now that they had touched, that they had embraced their relationship, she felt as if trying to make up for wasted time.

So she had sneaked into his room in the dead of the night. _Sera would be proud_ , she thought in amusement. _Well, that is, if I hadn't played sneaky rogue to meet Elven Glory Lord_.

“What's so funny?” Solas was asking, snapping her out of her reverie.

“Uh, nothing much. It's just my mind being weird. Odd situation to be reminded of how my friends would be giving me a hard time if they were here.” She grinned, shrugging. “So… how is routine for you here? Should I expect to see you busy all the time?”

He smirked. “New plans are yours, so I expect us both to be frequently busy.”

 

\---------------------

 

After a week, they had noticed it was a waste of space to pretend her room was the one she had picked at first - neither of them wanted to sleep alone anymore, so she moved her things to his room and it became their room.

She was quickly picking up the pace of the routine here. Usually, reunions would come during the mornings, decisions on where to go and what to look for paired with the disclosure of new information that was not pressing - anything urgent was presented to him whenever it arrived. She was impressed with the amount of spies he had everywhere, and her mind went to something he said back in Halamshiral, still in his time in the Inquisition: it was easy to be ignored when one was a servant. An army of elven spies in a world where most elves are servants and you have an impressive information network. She calculated, by what she was hearing, that at least half of the elves in Halamshiral itself were spies these days, either in service of Solas or of Briala; most elves that were actual humble servants had left the alienages to come live in the Tirashan by now.

She wondered how long it would take Orlais to notice that and start punishing random elven servants - though they never seemed to need an excuse for that.

She wondered how Orlais was even functioning with such a shortage of servants, actually.

The afternoons that weren't taken by other activities she'd spend nagging the former sentinels to help her learn elvhen, and she'd help them learn trade tongue in exchange; or she'd bother mages to help her practice to get used to her newly acquired power. It was frightening, at times, to know that one person could have such a deep sway on reality. She vowed to herself to use it in favor of people.

 

She was still talented at making friends, he noticed. A bright light, quick to offer smiles and quick to lash out.

On week three since her arrival, a large number of curious people gathered where she had been practicing.

“ _Vher’eir_!” one of the elvhen said. _Snow cat_?

He came closer to find in the middle of the gathering a large furry lynx that seemed utterly confused and curious at itself, and radiated of the energy he recognized as hers.

“You shapeshifted outside the Fade, vhenan. How?”

She turned her muzzle to point at Sulvun, and opened her mouth to speak, seeming to laugh at herself when the only thing that came out was a bunch of mewling noises.

“ _I have been trying to teach her_ ”, the elvhen man explained in the old tongue, “ _but I was attempting to start with something simple, like a bird. However, her essence seemed intent on taking this form instead._ ”

Solas nodded, looking down to watch her, and snorted as she moved to nibble on his shoeless foot, seeming to find her snout terribly amusing.

 _Vher’eir_ , they said. So she was gaining another title already. He only hoped she wouldn't follow what came next for him - being regarded as divinity, and demanded to live up to it.

 


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: this chapter begins with an attempt to take women and children as slaves. If that bothers you, skip to after the first line of dashes!

_Not my children. Take me, but not my dear children._

The antivan dalish tried to open her eyes, too weak of hunger, too swollen of being hit, and could see her little ones in chains.

Captured, taken like cattle. They would probably be taken to different places too, not with her.

Hot tears rolled down her cheeks, and she prayed. _June_ , she called for the one to whom her vallaslin was dedicated. _Mythal. Andruil. Ghilan’nain. Please. Anyone who's listening. Save my children._

There was a roar, and growling. There were screams - of those who took them, tevene slavers. Children scooped closer to her, too scared to cry.

_A… huge cat? With so much fur?_

“Mamae… is that Fen’harel?”

Her heart thumped as she looked at where her child was pointing. A wolf. An enormous wolf, with far too many eyes, snarling to their capturers.

“Come here, da’len. Don't look.” Yet she, the mother, watched intently as both wolf and cat ripped through shemlen skin until the screams silenced.

 _Not who I called for_ , she thought, amazed, _but someone listened._

_They are safe._

And so was she.

 

\---------------------

 

“Pray tell, dear girl, you wouldn't have anything to do with the tales of _a cat and a wolf_ shredding slavers to free elven captives in the border between Antiva and Tevinter, would you?” Dorian’s voice was clearly in mock surprise, something perceptible even through the crystal.

“ _Woooot_?” She replied in her best fake orlesian noble accent. “Now why would you ever think that of me, darling?”

“Wonderful, she turns into a cat, and now into Vivienne!” Her laughter at that carried through the trinket, making Dorian miss her presence even more. “But really, when did you learn to shapeshift?”

“Uhm, that would be about two weeks ago, I think.”

“And you're already taking prey. Marvellous. Though I can't fault your choice of targets. So should I count on you and apostate hobo on the efforts against slavery then?”

She snickered. “I wonder if you'll still call him that after you see him again. But yes, we even started without you. I'm quite impatient, you see.”

“I'll find a way to make use of these _rumors_ then. Give me some time and I'll think of something. Until then, by all means, _do carry on_.”

She laughed, said farewell, and paused to look around. Ah, the Arlathan Forest. She was very far from home now, yet she couldn't complain - they had taken eluvians directly to the ruins of the heart of the former elvhen realm, nestled between Antiva and the Tevinter Imperium. More uncharted forests the humans didn't dare enter.

“We could build a new base here.” The voice of Solas interrupted her thoughts, as he walked into the broken room she was in. “We should take advantage of the eluvians for this as well. If we avoid concentrating in only one place, it would be easier to defend, should any country seek to retaliate. By the time they can reach our lands into the forests, we could have moved all of those unable to fight to another base, far away.”

She considered. It was a sound plan.

“Dorian believes that, with enough examination, new eluvians could be produced, even by humans.”

“Perfectly possible, yet they would have to create another middleway. The Crossroads would not welcome the doors created by non-elves into its lands. It would need to be an entirely new network, and thus with no access to the locations of the eluvians that already exist.”

She nodded, moving to the door to watch the people they recently freed. She smiled, fondly. _They must be protected._

“What other lands could we use for that?”

“The depths of the Brecilian Forest. The Arbor Wilds. The Planasene Forest. The Donarks.”

She laughed aloud. “What's with shemlen and forests? You mean to tell me all of those are places they avoid to go?”

“What they fear, they try to kill. Lands with such a connection to the Fade and remnants of our ancient magic do not take lightly to being mindlessly attacked.”

“Add to that all the beasts that roam such places, and the fear of magic of most of them… Tevenes would give us a harder time at that, though. Their magic isn't as limited as what the circles teach, and they have a history of studying our artifacts.”

“Yes. Yet still, after centuries of that, apparently only now one of them has considered to try and reproduce what we could do, and that one is our ally. However it would be a mistake to take them lightly. We should be sure our People are stronger before we allow them to know what has been interfering with them, or taking any more widespread measures against their treatment of elves.”

“They have been exploring what was left of our culture and people. Surely it won't be long until they connect the attacks and Fen’harel?”

He nodded. “And dismiss that idea as histeria of newly-captured slaves or slave hunters in fear of retaliation. Remember what I told you - one is not ready to accept they are dealing directly with one who is believed to be a god.”

She nodded, considering, and let that topic be.

  
They walked back to the rescued, tending to any wounds that still needed treatment and making sure everyone was well fed before breaking up camp to take the eluvian back to Tirashan with them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited to include art.


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited to include art.

“Pssst… hey Sera, funny bangs says what?”

“Wot?” the blonde elven woman took a moment to realize she fell for her own joke, as Samahla’s laughter echoed across the cheap Val Royeaux tavern.

“Well, if it isn't Her Gracious Ladybits!” Sera laughed, casting her arms around her friend. “And this _creepy thing_ ”, she poked Samahla’s left arm, “seems to have learned to behave!”

The former inquisitor smiled. “I'll tell you everything. Though I don't think you'll be comfortable with the details.”

“Ugh, elfy stuff?”

“Elfy stuff, creepy magic stuff, we've got it all. I swear I'll put it to good use though. Any place where we can talk without ears on the walls in this city?”

 

\---------------------

 

“Piss shit. Tell me you didn't.”

“I just told you I _did_ , Sera.” Samahla sighed. She knew Sera would give her a hard time accepting what she'd been doing - or even more, who she'd been doing it _with_ \- but it was still aggravating. “I said I wouldn't give up on him. I didn't. I also said I wouldn't give up on _people_.”

“He's _the fucker creep who caused it_!”

“And didn't mean to. You were quite ready to forgive Rainier, Sera. Only your friends deserve forgiveness?”

“He - it was _one family_ , not _the freaking world_ \--”

“--but he _meant to_ and Solas didn't and crap I was supposed to be defending a friend and not going against the other.” She sighed, thinking of another way to go about this.

“Damn _right_ you shouldn't be talking crap about Thom, he's doing all sorts of good things!”

“And so is Solas, Sera! We're building a whole nation for those who are tired of being oppressed--”

“--You mean you're building for _elfy elves_ \--”

“--That includes _you_! And no, not just for elves, though that's our priority, but it's for everyone who'll accept to live without treating anyone as lesser.”

“Piss that! Nobles won't treat the small people the same!”

“We're not forcing anyone to come. Nobles can keep their asses right here for all I care. It must be real funny to see how they're doing anything without all their servants too. Heard anything about any fancy breeches running around the mansion, pants down, screaming for someone to come clean their butt because they don't know how to yet?”

If Samahla was to be honest to herself, she'd confess to miss having someone to be able to talk so much inelegant trash freely like this.

For her part, Sera laughed aloud. “No wonder city's been stinking so much lately! I don't think they know how to do their own laundry I swear.”

“I bet they never had a reason to _learn_ how to before. How are they treating the servants who remain?”

“Some of them pissface nobles got angrier and more violent. But most people soon realize they can just leave the crap abusers to go to another employer, demand has been high as you imagine. I heard a few are earning more coin teaching the rich fuckers how to actually do daily stuff themselves, but it's not many of them spoiled idiots who accept to try. The city's a mess.”

“And you're loving it.”

Sera cackled. “Of _course_ I'm lovin’ it, shitfaces had it long coming.”

“You do realize the servants who left are with us. They left because we - because _he_ offered a better option, a safe place to go.”

The blonde huffed. “Yeah, rub it in, will ya?”

“Seriously. We want to bring the rest of them. And the slaves in Tevinter in due time. And the people forced to follow the Qun later on.”

“Wot’s in it for elvhen glory lord in _that_?”

“You know his view of the world grew in his time in the Inquisition, Sera. And he _did_ say his faith is in the right of all people to live according to their free will.”

“Phbbbbt!” Sera mocked, but Samahla knew that she was getting to her.

“Just come see it, alright? Then you can decide if you wanna help or not. But just imagine fancy butts in even more of a mess when they find themselves having to actually pay decently for servants and treat them well, and find that even still there are next to none available to be hired.”

Sera looked away.

“Imagine living in a place where it's actually a crime to treat someone as a lesser being to you.”

Sera sighed. “ _Fine_. But will I have to headbutt into a friggin’ creepy mirror?”

“Unless you have another way to cross Orlais in less than a day, yes sweets, you will.”

“ _Piss on that_!” Sera complained.

But went along anyway.


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited to include the art. <3

“Loved, adored, desired, but scared, I don’t know why I’m scared.” Samahla looked at her side to see Cole, her feet dangling into the lake water.

“Hi Cole. I haven’t seen you for a few weeks. How are you?”

“You didn’t _need_ me for a few weeks. Confused, puzzled, why am I precious? I know he loves me but I don’t know why. Why do you doubt him?”

She sighed deeply, watching her toes make the water surface ripple. “I… don’t know. He’s ancient. He’s seen thousands of years. He’s seen, he’s _done_ amazing feats of magic that marked him into history as a _god_ . I haven’t seen even full thirty years, Cole. The most I’ve done was mend somebody else’s mistakes, and even at that I almost died too many times. Sure, he loves me _now_ , but how long will it be until he gets bored? I can’t even begin to _imagine_ what to him was commonplace.”

Cole eyed her, puzzlement in his face, and sat by her side, feet in the water - boots and all.

“Why would you have to? He loves telling you things. Her eyes shining, her marvelled smile at every new thing, I am honored to be here when she discovers everything that once was, when she realizes everything that can one day be.” The spirit boy looked at her from below his floppy hat. “He wonders why you would love him too. It should be simple, why is it difficult?”

Her eyes dashed to Cole, her body leaning down so she could see his face properly from under the hat. “He does? Why would he?”

Cole looked at the water, not really seeing it. “My mistakes, so many mistakes, I caused this, her people suffer, they are wrong about what I have done but they are not wrong about hating me. This is not right, I should not let her love me, she does not know, she cannot know, she will hate me, she will cast me away, but now she knows, she knows everything and _why does she still want me_?”

Samahla watched her friend, brows furrowed and heart wrenching in her chest. “I… tried to hate him. It seemed to be easier, it seemed to be _right_ . You were the only one who was glad when I decided to help him change his ways instead of fighting him, everyone else thought I was being naive, putting others in danger. I can’t hate him, Cole. I can’t. His actions caused so many horrors, but he couldn’t have known, could he? And he wasn’t even there to see when things went so wrong. And he did it all to try to make things right for those who suffered. Things _changed_ , but who’s to say they got _worse_? How would it feel to live forever, but forever enslaved to people who literally control your mind, who can play you like a lifeless doll, and you can’t even hope for death to come to give you peace?”

“This is wrong, they are empty, emotionless, shells with no feelings pretending to live. No, I am wrong, they feel and they love and they fight and they’re _real_ , and how could I do this, but I have to do this, _what should I do_?” He looked at her again. “You made him see you, you made him see everyone. He changed his world but you changed it again. He would have made another huge mistake, and it would have broken him, but you showed him another way. You saved his heart, and now you keep it safe in you.”

Her hand flew to her chest in reflex. Her heart was beating painfully fast, so much in her mind to think over - but Cole, dear Cole, like always, _helped_.

 

 

\---------------------

 

She found him perched over their war table, staring intently at the region of Orlais on the map. Solas was so focused he only noticed her presence when her arms wrapped around his torso from behind, hands pausing over his heart.

He exhaled at her touch, as if allowing her warmth to ease his worry, and held her arms gently.

 

“Vhenan.” His head lulled back, resting against her hair, and his eyes closed. Her presence still had the effect of lifting a weight off his shoulders, as if her mere existence and acceptance of him could guarantee that things would be well in the end.

He hoped that feeling would continue for ages to come.

She twisted to a side, arms still around him, to eye the map. “‘Ma’lath, is something the matter?”

His eyes returned to the map, one long finger tracing the marker pinned on Halamshiral, a frown still marring his features. He thought back on the information brought by his spies, sighing deeply before replying.

“The nobles of Orlais are restless. There are too few servants to keep things in order, and there have been far too many generations of high-born people who simply refuse or do not know how to perform menial tasks.”

He heard her snort, but continued.

“Humans from rural areas have started moving to the larger cities, in hopes of tasting the luxuries of the court by offering their services to replace the elven servants. As a result, there are less laborers working in the fields, and food and other supplies have become more expensive and harder to come by.”

Her snort became laughter. Solas couldn’t help but grin - the irony and the plain _cosmic revenge_ of it all wasn’t lost on him.

“I wonder what would come first,” Samahla quipped while staring at the map, “shems learning how to cook their own food or coming begging for elves to go back to them. It’s impressive how they never before realized how much they’ve always _needed_ our people - and how absurd it is to mistreat people you need.”

“Delightful for us as it may be, vhenan, it has become a pressing matter for them.” He turned into her arms to face her, his face becoming serious once again. “The situation is a thorn on their side, and you know the pride of Orlais. They have reinforced their search for the cause of the migrations.”

She could understand where his words were going. “... Oh.”

“And they appear to have found our location.”


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't decide which scene to draw for this, and I had to practice painting realistic digital a bit, so here, have a fancy portrait of Samahla.

 

“Aenor. How fares the rebuilding in the ruins of Arlathan?”

“Many of the dwellings can already house people, sire. We have facilities ready for use. The entire center of the ruins is proper for living by now.”

“Excellent. What of the crops? Nathra?”

“A few are starting to grow. The land is excellent for plantation. We will have them alive come the next proper season.”

“Good work. As for--”

Solas paused, as Samahla entered the war room. Her lips pulled in a smile as she heard the topic of the conversation. Of course she would be pleased that, at the wake of a possible invasion from Orlais, they were making sure the people could be moved to a safer location.

“Please, don’t stop because of me. Do go on. Does this mean we are ready to move to Arlathan Forest then?”

“If we deem it preferable, it seems so, yes. However, it might be advisable to defend here as well, to avoid losing this location.”

“As long as those who cannot fight are safe elsewhere, maybe.”

He nodded, agreeing. It was always good to have her present for these - he could focus on strategies, her keen eye for detail would keep all the possible problems and avoidable unpleasant outcomes in check.

“How has been the training of--”

“M’lord, m’lady!” All eyes turned to the arriving spy, an older woman who served as a lady-in-waiting at the orlesian palace.

“Do you have something urgent for us, Elena?”  
She took a moment to catch her breath, after quite obviously arriving in a hurry.

“Celene is about to throw a grand ball. She’s spreading the information that ‘the rulers of the new elven lands, whoever they may be’ are invited.”

 

There was a long moment of silence. Eyes dashed around the room, assessing the uncertainty in the other faces, all puzzled and wondering what should be done.

After a moment, Samahla snorted.

“Now _this_ should be fun. It was already a scandal the last time I was there and they were forced to treat the _elven_ Inquisitor with such honor. And they were _magnificent_ at figuring out Solas’ position in the Inquisition, too.” She laughed, eyeing his small smile at the memory.

“Not that it was any offense to me. There was much I managed to discover because I was not being paid attention to.”

Samahla crossed her arms, wondering.

“Elena. What do you imagine they plan to achieve with this?”

“They expect you to make fools of yourselves. They hope to discover more about us, as they managed to find where we are but were never able to come close enough to know more.”

“Rasanor?” Solas asked, looking at their spymaster.

“This is our confirmation that they don’t know who you are. If they did, they would know lady Samahla is no fool at the Game. Celene surely remembers every detail of the last time m’lady was in Halamshiral. They expect our leaders to be their idea of ‘regular’ elves - warriors, former servants, ‘savage’ dalish, angry in a revolt. Not seasoned leaders with such an understanding of the world.”

“Excuse me”, Ithelana intervened, with the thick accent and awkwardness of someone still learning a language, “If I understand… correct, they can want remove…” she paused, frowning. Samahla smiled, and nodded for her to continue. “Want remove leaders from here, and attack.”

The spymaster considered. “They would expect you to take servants and a guard group. It would leave our lands not defenseless, but still with less defense. And coordination.”

Solas sighed. “What could we gain by going?”

“Beating them at their own Game again?” Elena chuckled at the thought. She had to deal with the hidden part of the Game way too often, it had been a delight to see an elf at the top of it before.

Samahla shrugged, however. “We don’t need to accept the rules of their Game anymore.”

“That. That is a good point, vhenan.” Solas thought for another moment. “We don’t need Orlais, but there are still elves being oppressed there. This… this is a revolution. We can go simply to show _them_ they can be safe with us, show the _world_ that the way things are now don’t need to remain so. We already have Leliana changing so much in their Chantry, and to add to that…”

“I hear she recently returned Shartan to their scriptures”, Samahla smiled fondly, her admiration for her former spymaster and still friend ever increasing. “Oh, we need to make sure whatever we do doesn’t drag the Divine’s name down, she must be already facing so much opposition as it is.”

“Yes, and what she is doing does us a great favor. Elves all around can see now that there is hope, that there is much to be achieved.”

She pondered. “Does this mean we’re going?”

“I believe we should. Just the two of us. They have no idea of our personal powers. They did not see me when the qunari attempted to attack Halamshiral. And they will recognize you the moment you arrive, of course, but they most likely are not aware of the powers you acquired after the Inquisition was disbanded. We have no need of guards. And seeing us in such a daring move could perhaps inspire the remaining elves there to dare as well.”

“... Can I mock their Game in front of everyone there?”

  
Solas simply chuckled at his lover’s mischief.


	22. Chapter 22

 

All the eyes in the grand ballroom of Halamshiral turned to the entrance to see the couple that arrived fashionably late.

Some forgot how to play the Game, gasping openly at the display.

The _inquisitor._ So shortly after she had been pressured to disband the Inquisition, and she was already changing the rules of the world again. Samahla wore an outfit the likes of which hadn't been seen in these halls at least since the elves still ruled these lands. It seemed to have been made to shock - her chest was only half-covered by a purple vest with the high neck of ancient elvhen fashion, the lower curves of her breasts as free and exposed as her belly, soft sheer fabric giving her an ethereal look that was complemented by entwined strips of blue leather as a nod to modern dalish armor.

Locking arms with her was a pale, elegant elven man with straight chestnut hair shaven at both sides. Fen'Harel, some concluded, those who had been paying more attention to the rumors. He was similarly dressed in a high-collared blue and green vest, leg and arm armor in the same gold of the delicate chains that adorned his neck, ears and head, half his chest and entire abdomen equally exposed in an obvious disregard for orlesian fashion and modesty.

More exposed were their faces, lacking any sign of masks, a clear statement of disregard for the Game.

 

Samahla had a different air about her than she did the last time she was here. Then, she had come looking for noble, powerful alliances, and her fear for Gaspard’s military nature had led her to save Celene’s life, and her wish to protect elves had led her to place Briala neatly at the empress’ side - but now she knew of what the empress had done to the elves of the city, even while having Briala as her lover, and Samahla deeply questioned her decision. No, tonight she didn't come looking for Celene’s favor, or that of any of these high-ranking nobles.

The couple walked the hall side by side, hearing the same voice that once had introduced her heart as her ‘manservant’ stumble at their presentation.

“ _The former inquisitor to the Inquisition, lady Lavellan, and… Fen'Harel--_ ” oh that was a hilarious attempt of pronouncing his title “ _\-- currently… royal couple of the elven lands._ ”

She raised her voice as she paused in front of Celene. “Thank you, but not quite. We have no such thing as royalty. We are Samahla Lavellan and Solas Fen'Harel, Guide and Guardian of Thenerasan.” She curtsied shortly to Celene, a display of respect but not of submission to one's rank, and felt Solas do much the same at her side as he spoke.

“Empress Celene. A pleasure to meet you again, after quite a long while.” He had a small smile upon noticing her hidden confusion - just as he imagined, she did not recognize him. Briala, however, seemed to almost do so. “I hope you fare well, _your imperial majesty_.” His tone at her title was just short of mockery, a skill that Samahla had just begun witnessing in her lover.

“Ah, welcome, _noble_ guests”, Celene began, her face and voice betraying nothing, “it is good to finally meet the names and _faces_ of new prominent leaders.”

Samahla grinned. “Such a shame that not even saving one's life gives me the reward to meet one's _face_ , but such is the way of things, yes?” Her reward was another bout of gasps and whispers at her blatant mockery of the Game, and she nearly snorted.

Celene dismissed them shortly after to tend to other affairs - most likely to speak to Briala - and they turned their attention to the events.

Soon they were surrounded by a swarm of curious nobles, either trying to humiliate them - having quite the opposite effect - or _enchanted_ with the _pretty exoticism_ of them both. It was amazing how it felt natural to this people to reduce someone to a curiosity, a trinket for their pleasure.

It was amazing to be able to turn it down against them.

Solas watched with avid interest as Samahla played with words and gestures, sweeping nobles off their feet with witty answers or ignoring them with such disdain it could be felt in the air.

He could notice other eyes watching them too. Servants, far too many for the current shortage - Celene must have had them fetched across Orlais for this occasion - watched with amazement in their eyes.

_Hope._

And it was one of those, a slight frail elven girl, that was so distracted with the display that she failed to serve the drinks she carried correctly, knocking a glass of fuzzy champagne over a lady's dress.

The smack on her face was loud enough to be heard across the ballroom. The fury on Samahla’s eyes was enough to heat the very air as she stomped to the young elf, the noble lady and her male companion already moving to voice their displeasure at the former inquisitor’s anger over ‘something so insignificant’.

And they were completely, phenomenally ignored.

As if they didn't even exist, Samahla passed by them as Solas watched from where he was, nonchalantly sipping from his sweet drink - he knew that, for his heart, there was no such thing as requiring support in such a conflict.

She looked at the young servant, who was still on the ground after being knocked over from the strike, and _kneeled down_ , making herself the same height as the young elf, making herself her _equal._

The court gasped in shock. Solas beamed in pride.

Somewhere hidden into curtains, Sera cackled lowly in glee until she remembered she wasn't supposed to be seen here.

 

Samahla watched the young servant with warm eyes, extending a hand to help her up. The blushing girl hesitated in disbelief.

“Are you done being treated like this, my kin?” She asked, voice sweet, though still loud enough to be heard by other elves present - and by nobles too, but those didn't matter. “Would you leave, if given better chances?”

Her silence was answer enough. The youngling didn't think she could believe it.

“Come with us. We care for our own. Nobody in Thenerasan will be allowed to abuse you.”

“I… my family…”

“Bring them. All of them. They don't have to be elves. They simply have to want to live in peace and equality.”

She could hear the whispers around her intensifying, and some indignant voices angry at her _gall._ Still unimportant, those opinions.

 

Solas was whispering to the curtain - or rather, to the woman behind it - as he watched the scene.

“They might attempt to lock or harm the elves in the alienage for this. We will leave the palace as soon as possible, meanwhile please make sure to scout as many areas as you can to protect the people. We will join the effort soon.”

“Lookit you, droopy ears, all worried about the simple people and shite, aww.” She cackled.

“Lower laughter please, Sera. It's a good thing they cannot recognize the laughter of their own servants, otherwise you'd have already been found. Now please, go, before anyone is harmed.”

Sera disappeared into lush corridors before taking to the streets.

He watched as all elven servants whispered among themselves, in fear and in hope.

Soon they would be far from these lands, he mused.

 

A pompous man looked livid as he yelled at Samahla. “You _dare_. First you steal Orlesian lands, now you steal our people!”

“If you treated them as _your people,_ they wouldn't _want to leave_.”

“Ah,” Solas approached, “I believe you are the new general in charge, am I correct? Such a dutiful one, so eager to defend lands nobody in your country has ever _stepped on_. A commendable attitude, lord.”

Samahla grinned at his contained venom. “Of course, it would do us a favor if you claimed us part of Orlais” she watched his expression. “Our people have been freeing slaves in Tevinter, as you may have heard. Once the tevenes decide to strike back, they would come at us - but surely, if we are but a part of Orlais, I am sure they would focus their efforts to the heart of your empire, yes? It sure has been a long while since Halamshiral has last seen war.”

There was a stunned silence.

That topic was not touched again.


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: this chapter features canon-typical violence. Blood happens. The descriptions are vague and quick, though.

It became quickly obvious that things wouldn't just go smoothly.

It had started with a chevalier. _Do you really think you deserve a land of your own, rabbit?_ He had spat as he knocked a young elven man against a wall, venomous words babbling about cowardice for wanting to leave, about owing them for their _kindness_ of allowing the elves to breathe the same air as the nobles or something.

An arrow straight into an eye silenced him.

“Shoot”, Sera mumbled as she helped the elf stand up, forcing herself to calm down, “I shouldna have done that. Now those snobs are gonna come fuming and shite. You ok? Quick, bring everyone you know. Last time something like this happened around here, I heard lady Masked Fancypants had them burn the alienage down for it. Go, go!”

 

By the time Samahla and Solas managed to leave the ballroom, there was a small war rising in the streets.

“Fenedhis” she cursed under her breath, quickly looking for Sera as Solas searched for the most urgent spots of the skirmish.

They ran across the streets, skirt ripping with the long strides, jewelry forgotten at the pressing matter of protecting those who had no means of protecting themselves. Soon they were deep into the alienage, too many armed and trained men to repress too few elves left.

This was not a move of order. This was attempted massacre.

 

Magic shields were raised everywhere as Samahla yelled for Sera to guide people to the mirror they had arrived through, the couple trying their best to defend others and ending up ignoring their own well being.

 

Then a blade struck her stomach. The pain was dulled by her worry as she watched an arrow pierce her lover's chest.

For a moment, time stopped.

She felt the air burn to a side with a feral growl. That wasn't hers.

Hers was the storm of ice that gathered around her and shot in a furious speed towards the archer.

A chevalier, blade stained with her blood, was roasted before her eyes, wrathful elvhen curses spilling from the lips of the Dread Wolf.

In the back of her mind, she barely registered Sera’s voice urging people to run to where she pointed.

Then the alienage was consumed in fire and ice.

 

\---------------------

 

They limped through the paths, delaying the enemy forces and ultimately throwing them off track.

When they could stop and breathe, they exchanged healing spells, dark stomach mended by Solas, pale chest closed by Samahla. They stared at each other, amazed at the fury that had taken them both upon seeing their heart hurt.

“That was… huh.”

“... Perhaps we are growing closer to each other, vhenan.”

“If by ‘closer' you mean ‘losing your own mind upon seeing the other be wounded’, then yes. I… I think we could have done with killing a bit less.” Still, she scooped closer, making sure she had healed him properly, hands touching his skin to make sure there was no wound left.

He sighed. “We could have done without any bloodshed, but it is done. Now either Orlais will attempt to attack us only to find our Tirashan lands empty, or Briala will figure out we have control of the Eluvians and realize it would be a waste of time and resources to send troops there.”

She nodded, wondering. “Let's go. They must be waiting for us.”

 

\---------------------

 

It was a wonder, walking through the Crossroads with so many that had no contact with old lore. Children laughed as they walked through mirrors, elders were carried by worried adults who refused to believe such a thing could work until they watched others walk through the magic glass. Gasps of wonder followed the crowd, worried mumbles of the few non-elves in the procession as they felt so awkward inside the Crossroads even as their elven family members felt so welcome there.

Incredulous whispers filled the air as they took in the lush forests that surrounded them in their destination, just by the entrance to the ruins being rebuilt.

“Stupid… freaky… demon… mirror thing… Uuugh” Sera mumbled, shaking her head before going to see who might need her most. Samahla went to see if anyone needed healing, while Solas tuned back into the Eluvian to get help to set everyone into their new homes.

 

\---------------------

 

She found him after dark, sitting over a broken wall, looking over the light of the small fires dotting their new city.

“Lonely, ‘ma'lath?” She whispered, jumping to join him, leaning her back against a column by the remnants of the wall. He leaned into her arms.

“I… find it hard to believe it all. It is working. Even with the threat of provoking wars looming over us, we have been successful - this will be their home. Our home. We… can do it. Your plan.” He breathed, his heart thumping with renewed and confirmed hope.

She smiled, taking his hand. “Come. We should rest. We haven't slept since before the ball.”

 

They found a small unoccupied room, tossing furs to the ground to lay over, holding each other warmly, the events of the last day replaying in their minds.

They'd basically showed both fingers to the elite of Orlais.

“... I wanted to do that since the first time we went to Halamshiral. Talk about picking the lesser of two evils, that night.”

He smirked. “I do not think we will have to worry about them for a while, now. They will be busy trying to reorganize the entire foundations of their daily life, and with the looming threat of having the wrath of Tevinter thrown on them, I doubt they would oppose us any time soon.”

She smiled brightly. “We can do this. We're gonna change the world... Again.”

 


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FINALLY, I caught up with the art for all chapters! If you missed any, you might want to go back and check all the pretty pictures in every chapter :3

“I am quite positive  _ that _ ”, he pointed discreetly to an elf under a cloak, walking from one place to the other as if looking for something she could help with, “is Briala.”

Samahla followed his gesture with her eyes, considering. “Are you sure? Why would she sneak along?”

“There is nothing left for her in Halamshiral. No servant information network to remain in those halls. And just like you, I also suspect she no longer harbors hope of a healthy relationship with Celene, not after everything the empress has done to those of our people under her rule and to Briala herself. Even if she did, she knows the Game well - if she is not useful in it, then she is expendable.”

“It makes sense, but why would she  _ sneak  _ along, trying to come unrecognized?”

Solas watched the woman from afar. “She has either come to spy on us, which I doubt - she has been in this for too long to cling to kindless loyalties when she can escape - or she wishes to start her life anew, to avoid being placed again in the role of a spy for us, to avoid different treatment because we know who she is.”

“A new life, with those of her own kind, a simple and peaceful life…” Samahla smiled, watching her. That is, after all, what they hoped to ensure for everyone when they started this. “Let's keep an eye of her for a while, to make sure she's not a threat for us. Other than that, if starting fresh is her wish… then I won't be the one to let her know she has been discovered.”

 

\---------------------

 

_ It hurt.  _

_ The last time she ran off into the woods alone, chasing some animal she hadn't ever seen before, all she got was a scolding for her irresponsibility.  _ You could get lost,  _ her keeper said.  _ The shems could find you. You could get hurt. 

_ This time, she got a broken leg. Very, very broken, she thought, eyeing her limb bent so wrongly with her tear-blurred eyes. She couldn't possibly get up, and there was nobody else with her to carry her back.  _

Heal,  _ she thought, though she was still such a newbie with healing magic - or mostly any magic, for that matter.  _ I can do it. Heal. 

_ Hours passed as she tried, and she failed and tried again, until she felt it slowly working. More hours went by as she felt the inside of her limb getting back into place, until she managed to stop crying and stand.  _

I fixed it!  _ she thought in glee, so happy for herself as she limped at first and then walked smoothly back to clan. _

 

_ She  _ also  _ got a scolding, as it went. As she tried to topple the lecture with her own cheers of successful magic, it was pointed out that her leg was  _ wrong.

Wrong? But it works perfectly. I'm walking just as well. It's just a little bent inwards.

_ Crooked, they said as a couple of stronger warriors came to hold her as the keeper declared she'd have to snap it back to heal it  _ right. 

What? But it's working, I fixed it! I've already fixed it,  _ she yelled as her leg was pulled about, and then she screamed in pain again.  _

_ As she waited for her leg to be healed once more, now tidily straight like the other, she wondered just why it had to be straight if it still worked so well.  _

It seems there's more I need to fix,  _ she mused,  _ like people's denial to accept what is different and unexpected.

 

 

\---------------------

 

They returned to their Arlathan Forest base after checking on Tirashan. There seemed to be no signs of attack, though human scouts had been sighted at the forest surroundings. 

By now, most everyone had been relocated, the fields were alive with activity, and many people were occupied with rebuilding more of the ruins of the one gigantic city of Arlathan. 

She eyed Solas, watching the nostalgic look on his face. 

“Starting to resemble what it once was?”

He smiled softly. “In some places, very much so.”

“Where is the place you took me in dreams that time?”

“Come. I will show you.” 

They walked together deeper into the ruins, to places still untouched by the rebuilding effort, to what remained of the open market she had seen in the vision he once molded for her in the Fade. She eyed her surroundings curiously, crumbled remnants of what once looked glorious now so different from what she'd seen, but impressively conserved after thousands of years forgotten. 

Solas, on the other hand, had paused and was looking intently at one specific building. 

“... Come. With some luck, it can still be salvaged.”

“What can?” But she was already being dragged by her hand.

“It was formerly a training station for those who would join spirits for various magical effects.” He explained as they walked into a broken set of walls, under a ceiling with a great hole in it. 

“That must have been impressive… wait, what are you planning?” She watched Solas as he stopped, observing the place, looking for something and then walking again to a side, where a grand set of stairs led down. She followed, torn between seeing what he would do and studying this new place full of historical potential. 

It was huge downstairs, and much more preserved. Her jaw dropped, eyes wide taking in the absurd amount of magical artifacts. The very floor and walls were covered in runes and rituals, faded by the time and impossibly complicated by her standards. Her skin was tingling so much she felt itching. 

“The Veil…” she whispered, almost to herself. “It was non-existant when this place was active, but the very nature of this location weakens it nonetheless.” He glanced at her, smiling at her face full of wonder. 

“Can… can the magic here be repaired?”

“Not easily or quickly, but I believe it can become functional again. This brings us to another part of your plan.”

She ran her fingers through elvhen incantations etched on the wall. “Weakening the Veil in specific locations, inviting spirits over, getting people accustomed to their presence and ending their fear of spirits…”

He smiled warmly. “Precisely. It will take time, but I believe this facility will help.”

_ Well, here goes part two. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I added a new smut chapter that happens between this one and the next: http://archiveofourown.org/works/6302491  
> Please mind the tags, it's got a few more fetishy stuff than the previous ones and maybe something bothers you.  
> As usual, if you don't want to or can't read that stuff, you can skip it and continue reading here and nothing important will be missed :3


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a smut chapter that happens between the previous chapter and this one: http://archiveofourown.org/works/6302491  
> Please mind the tags, it's got a few more fetishy stuff than the previous ones and maybe something bothers you.  
> As usual, if you don't want to or can't read that stuff, you can skip it and continue reading here and nothing important will be missed :3

“ _You are here… I have missed you!”_

Samahla blinked, watching the spirit float around Solas eagerly.

They hadn't planned to sleep here, in the ancient training facility for those who once practiced magic with spirits - yet yesterday they had both been far too _playful_ and had passed out from exhaustion right there on the runed floor. And now they were both dreaming together.

The Fade was hectic here.

Everything was extremely colorful, with strong lights that didn't hurt the eye, memories of long-dead elvhen walking around, and some spirits ran about, mostly ignoring them.

Except for the one who was now speaking in beautiful - if still a bit confusing for her - elvhen while being so very happy to see her beloved.

“ _And_ you!” The spirit flew to her in an embrace, covering her in a warm feeling that spoke of certainty, and comfort, and…

“ _Hope. It has been a very long while.”_ He spoke, with a fond smile.

“ _You forgot about me. Left me behind. But_ she _brought me back, strong anew. I had almost disappeared.”_

_Wait. What?_

“ _What ‘she'? What are y-”_

 _“You!”_ It was very exotic to be hugged so fiercely by a non-physical creature. Samahla looked at the spirit, and then at Solas, the warmth in her heart not quite able to hide her confusion and curiosity.

Solas sat down on a chair that was no longer there in the physical world, watching them.

“My heart, this is Hope. My own. She spawned from my own feelings, back in the days of Arlathan when I decided to start the rebellion.”

“You… you alone gave birth to a spirit?”

“It was not quite uncommon then, specially for those of the People who had a closer connection to the Dreaming and stronger magical power.”

Samahla looked at Hope in wonder. The beautiful bunch of light was still fiercely lodged to herself.

“When I awoke from Uthenera, I thought I had lost Hope forever, and the sentiment that spawned it…”

“You did.” The spirit spoke in trade tongue. Apparently, language was just a sort of mutable translation for ideas in the Fade or maybe for spirits in general. “I was nearly destroyed for becoming increasingly weak. But then this one came!”

Solas looked into Samahla’s eyes, and smiled fondly.

Her cheeks burned.

“... Wait _what?”_

He chuckled, slightly flushed himself. “When I awoke, everything was so different and I despaired. I did mention the world did not even feel real, did I not? But the closer I came to other people, the more I believed. You had an immense impact on that.”

“... ‘felt the whole world change’. I… didn't think that was so _extreme._ ”

Solas came closer, trying to dislodge the clingy spirit from her, but only succeeded in rendering Samahla into a laughter fit as it wouldn't budge. “I was refusing to allow myself to hope. I could not deal with the pain of hoping and then having everything be destroyed again. But _you_ would never give up.” There was a smile stubbornly etched to his face.

Hope decided to surround him as well, cooing in delight.

“You two work _so well_ together! I feel stronger than back then.”

“Wait, how did you even manage to… _feed it_ when you didn't even know it still existed?”

He sighed deeply, wiggling to sit down after giving up on moving out of clingy spirit.

“It was… different back then. A spirit did not simply spawn and get forgotten. They were also part of society. And as with the entire society… there was hierarchy. Some connection remains, as Hope was mine, and therefore it was tied to me.”

“The vallaslin was really pretty”, Hope mentioned.

Solas cringed strongly at that.

“Wait, you had vallaslin? _His?_ ”

“Many had, once.” He sighed.

“I wish I had seen yours.” Hope mentioned, its grip on them loose by now.

“ _You_ had vallaslin? How come? You were one of the evanuris!”

“Not from the beginning. I was Mythal’s.”

“Mythal's Pride of the People.” Hope said, and it _felt_ like it was smiling.

“You…” Samahla stared with wide eyes. “You were a _spirit_ …”

He nodded once, watching her face full of contradicting emotions.

“That's how you knew so well how to deal with Cole! Even when he had trouble figuring out what was in the material world…”

“... I had personal experience, yes. Though it has been far too long for me to quite remember it.”

She was gaping.

Hope simply watched.

“... That's amazing. That's… you were _Pride_. A demon? No, you've mentioned there's not much difference, and without the Veil there would not be such corruption I think…”

 

She started babbling, as she did when there was a lot in her mind. For his part, Solas was simply proud that she was able to figure out so much so easily.

He should have told her before, truly. They were back together for a year now, and she didn't even know how he came into existence - yet he knew of her clan, her parents, of even a few of her past lovers, already back when they were still in the Inquisition.

It had never crossed his mind to tell her, however. It was so long ago, in another life, another world.

One she had always been deeply curious about.

“I wish I could have seen it all.”

“No, you would not wish to see that, vhenan.” He whispered, sadly. “My hatred toward the Qun is not a simple quarrel. There are no words to describe the horrors of a mind-controlling slavery, and it was far deeper-seated then than it is within the Qun. As far as I am aware, what they do today makes one really feel like what is being changed is right - a more invasive change, but perhaps one that doesn't bring quite so much misery as being forced to do something that you know you do not want.”

Samahla listened, looking down. “... It never ends, does it? People will always abuse others.”

Hope blinked - its light actually faded down a bit, then lit up again. “And people will always help others, too. And nobody before has attempted what you're trying to do. Don't give up.” Hope glimmered, taking hold of her again, and this time Solas’ arms held her as well.

“Do not give up... Vhenan… you were the one to save me from despair. If the weight of the world has finally become too heavy on your shoulders, then I will be your haven this time.”

  
Hope surged, and lit up across the Fade in delight.  
  



	26. Chapter 26

“ _She's too young, too pure, she doesn't know what she'd doing, please don't take her away, please don't see it, we have to hide, we have to run._ Don't be afraid. It's a gift. You're not in the alienage anymore. Nobody will take her away.”

The young father held his daughter tighter, tears streaming from his face, unaware of where this sudden spark of comfort came from.

_Compassion._

“She'll be fine. They're both mages. They won't take her from you. She will learn and grow and glow, shine, shimmering, she pulls the Fade with sure hands.”

Cole felt the hurt from the elf man free itself out, and knew that now he only needed time. It would heal.

 

\---------------------

 

“How are the repairs going?” she asked as she found him still working on the spirit facility.

He smiled, but answered without looking back, his attention focused on the ancient artifact he held. “Promising. I have already salvaged much, though there is still much to be done. Perhaps you could help me, vhenan.”

“Can I help too?” came a tiny little voice, high with curiosity. Startled, Solas turned to investigate.

She couldn't have seen more than four summers in her life, the smiling child who grinned at him.

“Ah, hello.” He then looked at Samahla, question in his eyes.

“This one is Lenna.” Samahla kneeled down, looking at the girl. “Show him what you can do!”

“Look, _look!_ ” The girl cooed merrily, reaching out her hands, making a burst of colors appear from her tiny fingers.

He smiled. “Very good! You will be a wonderful mage.” He chuckled, smiling fondly.

“She is only the youngest, but there are many who had been hiding, trying to avoid the templars and circles. They will need room to learn, ‘ma'lath, and someone to teach them.”

“Yes. Perhaps we can round up all of our mages and organize learning groups.”

The girl hopped. “Where is he, where is he?”

“I'll take you back to your father in a moment, sweetheart.”

“No, not daddy! The boy! The one with the big hat! He was talking to daddy when he was crying, then he went away.”

Solas and Samahla looked at each other, puzzled.

“You saw Cole?”

“Oh, that's his name? He's nice! Can I see him again, miss?”

Samahla smiled, looking at her lover.

“Perhaps we should teach this one personally.”

 

\---------------------

 

“Like this, Cole!” Lenna giggled, showing him the play of lights as if meaning for him to learn it.

“I can't make magic.” He answered as his fingers moved as if to touch the small motes of light.

“No? But I saw you disappear!”

“I just went back to the Fade.” His big eyes watched the little girl with interest and curiosity.

“What's fade?”

Samahla picked her up.

“The Fade is the land of dreams and nightmares, where all magic comes from and the home of spirits like Cole!”

The young girl looked at him with wide eyes. “You're a spirit?”

“I'm Compassion!”

“What's compashun?”

Cole staggered, not sure how to reply. Samahla took his place.

“Compassion is the feeling you have of wanting to help other people, just so they'll be well, not wanting anything in exchange for helping.”

The girl looked back at Cole, grabbing for the brim of his hat to see his entire face. “That's why you were talking to papa! You're really nice, I like you!”

“Thank you! You're nice, too. Look, the others are coming!”

About a dozen people, of all kinds and ages, were arriving - including two humans, a couple of children and an elder lady.

“Perhaps we should start today with explaining the Fade then”, Samahla mentioned, “as you already asked about it, Lenna. What do you think?”

“Dreams!” She giggled. “Can we see it?”

Solas stepped closer, holding an ancient artifact that shone with newfound energy. “As a matter of fact, you can, da’len, but first you have to learn of the workings and dangers of the Fade. Take a seat” he gestured to everyone present. “Shall we begin?”

 

 

\---------------------

 

“Hope’s here.” Cole whispered below his hat to Samahla, watching the sky as the beginner mages practiced under Solas’ care. “ _They watch, and learn, and become more, and now they dare to hope._ Hope feels them, and grows more with them. It wants to cross over, but it's not ready yet.”

Samahla followed his eyes with her own. “Do you think it would become like you, able to come and go back to the Fade as it pleases?”

“If it wants to. Hope is a powerful thing.”

Samahla looked back at the people learning, amazed at what they could do. She watched the younger ones, another marvel of the world to be amazed at, their own potential leaving them giddy and confident. She watched the older ones, the ones who were learning and starting so late after a life of hiding, eyes brimming with the prospect of becoming so necessary, so able to protect and fight and heal.

She watched her beloved, eyes alight with the image of these people so different and so alike the ones he used to call his own, his sense of family and belonging expanding by the day, people slowly but surely becoming People in his heart, not for their magic but for their courage, their creativity, their care and their love for one another. She watched as he seemed to teach, but truly learned with their struggle and their companionship and their selflessness and fierceness and hope.

_Hope is a powerful thing indeed._


	27. Chapter 27

“It's quite a place you two made here, Chuckles. I'm glad to be here to see it.”

“Thank you, master Tethras. We are glad to have you. How fares Kirkwall?”

Varric grunted. “Well… You know…”

“I do not quite know, but I do recognize when one does not wish to speak of something.” Solas smiled, watching his former friend - hopefully one to be his friend again someday.

“Where’s Tricky though?”

“At this hour, she will most likely be aiding children with their gifts of magic, I believe. We can go to her, if you wish, otherwise she will join us as soon as that is done.”

“Won't want to have come so far and not see everyone I can. Heard Buttercup’s with you too, and Kid.”

“Cole is around, but he is as fleeting as ever. He will appear some time, when he deems fit. Sera, however, I do not know where she is. She aids us frequently but hardly ever stays.”

“Let me guess. Too elfy.”

Solas smiled. The woman would flee from what he was most proud of. 

“So, how's the deal here?” Varric continued, taking the other man's silence as a positive answer. “I doubt other countries are just ignoring you. You have one territory in orlesian lands, the other right between Antiva and Tevinter. You have a crowd of their former servants and slaves. I can't imagine other powers would be fine with that.”

“Let's just say the only reason you are here is because we want you to - otherwise you would be utterly lost in the forests on your way here, either to eventually find yourself stumbling back to the entrance or being so long deep into the forests to get weak with hunger and fall prey to a beast.”

“Ouch. Old magic?”

“Old and new. If I understand correctly, you were not in her company when she discovered of who and what I am, but I imagine she did tell you all of it and what she did with the power that was etched to her hand, no? So you understand we were able to enhance much of--”

He went silent, realizing Varric had stalled behind, his steps pausing as he looked at the ground. 

_ Ah. He was avoiding to think of this.  _

“Perhaps we should discuss what happened then instead, it seems, master Tethras?”

Varric took a deep breath, and looked back at the elf. “What  _ were _ you, Chuckles? I'm not even sure I should still call you by nicknames.”

“I am still who you have met. I do apologize for hiding part of it, but I felt it was necessary. I would be honored if you could ever find it in yourself to see me as a friend again. As for what I was… Far more powerful than any one being should be, perhaps, and not nearly as wise as would be advisable for someone with such power to be.”

“The  _ Dread Wolf _ , Tricky said. What's the truth about that?”

Solas motioned to a bench under a tree, watching as the storyteller took a seat. “Fen’Harel was a name given to me in mockery, that I bent to my purposes in pride. It is false that I was a god. It is true I locked the others like myself, though my reasoning for it was completely lost in the lore that remains now, which paints me as the great traitor of the People.”

“Every story needs the big bad guy, Chuckles. Why did you do it?”

“They had the People enslaved, and with every passing season they became more obsessed with power. I had had enough when they murdered Mythal for opposing their abuses.”

“Ah, the misunderstood hero who becomes the enemy. Shit, Chuckles, I wouldn't believe it if I hadn't seen what you're capable of with my own eyes.”

“I am no hero, master Tethras, too many times I have failed and taken careless measures, and I would be chasing another mistake now if it were not for Samahla. Once I told her, years ago, that it seemed absurd that her people I deemed foolish could have raised one such as her. Now I see it is only natural - people who survive in such a dire situation, and can still find it in themselves to have such pride and care for their own, would be bound to create someone with her traits. All it took was one to be a bit more curious, a bit more adventurous, to search for the details and truth. I was blind to the fact that the People endured centuries of persecution and the intentional erasure of our culture and history - I see now that it is actually impressive that the dalish were able to discover so much. I am no hero. I failed even her, judging those who she loved when I knew nothing of them.”

“Still they cling to gods who will not be there for them.”

“The humans saw Andraste in her, when it was something else entirely. Did it have to be true? Does Andraste even need to be an actual goddess? What matters is that something to believe in may help endure the hardships of life. For some, it will be an idea of supreme beings who look for them. For others, it will be the knowledge that some of their own could rise and take it upon their own hands to fight against oppression.”

Varric had a mighty smirk on his lips. 

“For all it's worth, Chuckles, I'm glad we didn't have to become enemies.”

The elf smiled. “So am I, master Tethras, truly.”

“But now you might wanna look behind you.”

Puzzled, Solas looked back to find his heart with a huge smile and teary eyes. 

He blushed slightly. “Vhenan. When did you arrive?”

“Around  _ ‘every story needs a bad guy’, _ I think.” She grinned, leaning over to embrace his back. “I didn't know you had been thinking about the things you said to me in the past, ‘ma'lath.”

His blush darkened. “As I well should, as I have been unfair to your people who are now - and should have always had been - also mine.”

“You were unfair to  _ a lot of people, _ but you were angry and confused and had lost so much and it was unfair to you too. I'm just glad that you were able to change your mind so quickly. Now…”

She stepped to the side, to hug Varric instead. “... How goes the viscount of Kirkwall?”

Varric grunted again. 

 


	28. Chapter 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry that this chapter is late! It was kinda hard to write.
> 
> Sad chapter is sad (to this fic's standards, at least). There's an underaged person dying of famine and hypothermia. You have been warned.

“Rest, child. You are not alone.”

“I… can't go yet. There's so much to do. This world… it needs saving. I can do it. I can't go yet.”

“We'll save it. Don't worry. You may rest.”

“No, I - dad and mom are gone, I have to do it…”

“You're weakened, child. You haven't eaten for a long while. Your body cannot sustain you. You are freezing. You've done what you could.”

“No! I'm… look, I'm even talking again!”

“Only with your heart, dear girl. I can hear what others can't. You are too weak to speak, but your heart shines bright, even when the rest of your body is dying.”

“Help me. I can't give up. Their dream was also mine. A world where we can all live together. I have to do it. For them and for me.”

She thought of her mother, lips framed in holes of where stitches used to be, wrists forever scarred with the marks of old shackles. She thought of her father, rage burning at even the merest thought of her being threatened.

Yet she couldn't move. Even her eyes would no longer open.

“Help me. I don't wanna die without seeing it…”

Her hand wouldn't move, too weak, too frozen, but she felt as if touching the spirit.

 

\---------------------

 

She opened her eyes.

She?

_Yes. That is how this mind sees itself._

No longer it. She.

There was snow. A strange feeling on her skin.

 _Cold,_ she concluded from her new memories.

Memories, of a world so different, of running and battles. A mother, who carried so much pain but was so loving, fighting with all she had - such power, so much power - to avoid being back into her prison again. A father, proud of having gotten her out, proud of having such a healthy and cheerful child with her.

A battle. _If you're no longer one of us, you're our enemy. You should not have left, sareebas._

_Run, my child. Save yourself._

She could remember running, until her feet bled, until green grass became white snow, and she couldn't find anyone, couldn't find anything.

She remembered collapsing, her strong heart no longer enough to sustain her weak body.

“Hello. Can you see me?”

_Compassion. No, actually-_

“Cole. It… hurts.”

“Yes. It's strange, what people feel. It'll go away. You're Hope, and someone else. Meravas. I felt her hurt, but I couldn't help. You helped her more.”

“I… can't stand up.”

“Your body is still weak. Pride and Laughter can help. I'll be back with them.”

Pride and Laughter. _Solas and Samahla._ The one who created her and the one who brought her back. _Yes, they will help,_ she thought before her consciousness left her.

 

\---------------------

 

“Solas, I can carry her.”

“She must be heavy. Give her to me.”

“She's just a teenager!”

“She is as tall as you are!”

Samahla blushed. “Well, that's a _qunari_ teenager for you!” She insisted, magic running through her muscles to empower them. Strong enough, but awkward for the size.

“I… cannot believe that is _Hope.”_ Solas ran a finger across the gray forehead, small horns framing it, hair thick with encrusted snow, and cast a bit of warmth into the skin there. “I wonder how much of the mind of the girl remains.”

“Memories that aren't mine, but are, my mind two in one now, so much hope, she has so much hope, she called to me and I had to come. She remembers, but she doesn't know if she remains.” Cole answered, seeming to float beside them.

“I wonder how much like _you_ she might become.”

“But she's hope! She's not like me.”

Samahla chuckled. That was not what she meant, but it hardly ever mattered with Cole.

They entered decrepit ruins, passing through a recently repaired mirror, the girl still unconscious in Samahla’s arms.

“She'll be the first vashoth in Thenerasan”, she mused, taking a path in the Crossroads that was so very familiar by now.

“Strangely, not the first embodied spirit, though.” He pointed out, looking around and resigning himself at no longer being able to find Cole.

“No.” She kept walking, mind wandering.

_Solas._

_Pride._

“Was it like this for you? Did you take the body of a person who died?”

He went silent for a moment, walking through the mirror that would take them home.

 

“No” he replied finally, thinking of a time long gone.

She watched him, patiently waiting for him to continue.

“Things were… less limited without the Veil. Magic was for all. There were specialists. Mythal had this body made for me, as it was by her request that I would take one. Some spirits however were able to craft bodies for themselves, after a long process.”

“Had a… body… made…” Samahla, once again, had a sense of disconnection. To think of that reality…

Of all that could be done.

Of all that _was_ done.

She touched her cheeks, as if feeling vallaslin that were no longer there for years.

_Slave marks._

She thought of Hope, mentioning the marks of Mythal that he once wore.

His own marks that Hope once wore.

_Even spirits could be enslaved. Bodies could be made. Minds could be dominated, entire worlds cast aside._

_Too much power. Too much abuse._ For a damning moment as she placed the sleeping body of a teenaged vashoth on a bed under the care of healers, she started to fear her own magic - and his, stronger than hers.

But wasn't that the reason why the Circles were created in the first place? The fear of a power too strange to understand?

Wasn't that the reason why the templars were created?

Wasn’t that in turn the reason why they felt it to be their right to oppress and mistreat those who possessed the power their feared?

_Fear. Power. Abuse._

In the end, abuse was a thing of people, the tools used for it unimportant after all. It was not the tool, it was the mind behind it.

 

 _It will take generations,_ she mused. But she was intent on shaping society to take care of each other justly.


End file.
